LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Class  MBRAR> 


THE  READER'S   BASIS 


BY 

ANGELINE  PARMENTER  CAREY 

Department  of  English,  Shortridge  High  School 

INDIANAPOLIS 


"The  clearest  and  most  imperative  duty  lies  on  every  one  of  you 
to  be  assiduous  in  your  reading;  and  learn  to  be  good  readers, 
which  is,  perhaps,  a  more  difficult  thing  than  you  imagine." 
Edinburgh  Address. — 


THE  ECHO  PRESS.  INDIANAPOLIS 
1908 


'£ 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 
ANGELINE  PARMENTER  CAREY 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


•  . 


TO 
THE  ALUMNI  OF  SHORTRIDGE  HIGH  SCH6OL 

NOW  LARGE  IN  NUMBER 

WHO  IN  MY  CLASS-ROOM  HAVE  BEEN 

THE  REAL  THOUGH  UNCONSCIOUS 

EDUCATORS 


193638 


PREFACE 


This  book  has  been  prepared  for  the  use  of  ad- 
vanced classes  in  the  English  course  of  secondary 
schools.  It  is  the  outcome  of  the  class-room,  and  has 
been  justified  by  experience.  It  presents  the  subject 
of  literary  composition  from  a  point  of  view  other  than 
that  taken  by  the  usual  text-book  in  English  Composi- 
tion, and  it  answers  a  purpose  not  yet  met  by  other 
text-books. 

Experience  has  shown  that  the  subject  of  literary 
composition,  taught  in  successive  grades  during  a 
period  of  two  or  three  school  years,  is  not  grasped  by 
the  student  with  any  sense  of  the  unity  of  the  whole, 
and  that,  therefore,  near  the  end  of  the  required  course 
in  English,  a  review  should  be  given  which  will  unify 
what  the  student  has  previously  learned.  Moreover, 
since  it  is  the  main  purpose  of  the  early  part  of  the 
English  course  to  stimulate  and  train  a  student's 
power  of  expression,  and  to  present  the  subject  of 
literary  composition  from  a  writer's  or  speaker's  point 
of  view,  so  it  should  be  the  main  purpose  of  the  latter 
part  of  the  course  to  train  the  student's  power  to  read, 
and  to  present  the  same  subject  from  the  reader's 
point  of  view. 

It  is,  therefore,  the  object  of  this  book  to  unify 
the  impressions  received  by  students  during  a  course 


PREFACE  vi 

in  English  by  giving  in  condensed  statement  the  whole 
theory  of  literary  composition,  presenting  the  subject 
from  a  reader's  rather  than  a  writer's  point  of  view. 
The  book  is  intended  to  be  used  during  the  last  half- 
year  of  a  required  English  course,  and  is  intended  to 
lay  the  basis  for  advanced  elective  courses,  and  for  the 
regular  English  courses  in  college. 

Although  the  book  is  intended  primarily  for  use 
in  the  class-room,  it  is  purposely  put  in  a  form  which 
may  be  acceptable  to  the  general  reader. 

ANGBLINB  CAREY. 
Indianapolis, 
June,  1908. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION. 

Page. 

CHAPTER  I. — The  Use  of  the  Public  Library.  .  .  1-15 
The  Public  Library  the  People's  University  .  .  1 
Universal  Need  for  the  Public  Library  .  .  .2 
The  Purpose  of  the  Public  Library  ....  2 
The  Means  for  Correcting  Provinciality  .  ...  4 

The   Reading   Room 4 

Magazines  .  .        .        .  .        .4 

Tables    of   Contents 5 

Poole's  Index        ..!....    5 

Resources         6 

Illustrated  Magazines 7 

Newspapers 7 

The  Art  Room 8 

Resources        8 

The  Educator  of  Public  Taste         .         .         .8 

Crafts 9 

The  Field  of  Art 9 

The  Fine  Arts 10 

The  Reference  Room        .        .        .        .        .        .    11 

Bulletins .11 

The  Card  Catalogue        .        .        /        .        .12 
The  Finding  Lists         .         .         .         .        .        13 

Standard  Indexes 14 

Reference   Clerks         .         .         .         .         .14 

School   Reference   Room         .         .         ..         .14 

The  Children's  Room        .        .        .        .        .        .        15 

Conclusion        .        .        .        .        .        .        ...    15 

CHAPTER  II. — The  Reader's  Field        .        .     "  .        .  16-112 

Classification  of  Books  .        .        .        «...        .  .    16 

Classes  of  Books         .  .         .         ....  -     17 

Reference  Books  .        .        .        .        .        .  .    17 

Dictionaries .  17 

Encyclopaedias  .         .         .         ,         .  .18 

Concordances  18 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 
Bibliographies         .         .         .         .         .         .18 

Year  Books 19 

Atlases 19 

Literature  or  Literary  Criticism        ...        19 

Poetry,   Drama,   Fiction 20 

Biography        ........        21 

History 21 

Travels 22 

Fine  Arts 22 

Useful  Arts 23 

Natural  History        .         .• 23 

Natural  Science 23 

Political    Science  'and    Economics        .        .        .24 
Sociology        ........        25 

Law .        .25 

Medicine 26 

Education .         .26 

Language .        .        27 

Philosophy   and    Occult    Science  .         .         .27 

Religion 29 

Greek   and   Roman   Classics         .         .         .         .29 
Polygraphy         .         .         .         .         .         .         .30 

Conclusion .        .        .30 

Literary  Forms .32 

Prose,   Poetry,   Oratory 36 

Narration 38 

Principles   of   Narration         .         .         .         .39 
History,  Biography,   Fiction         ...        42 

History 43 

The  Chronicle  ....  44 
Narrative  History  .  .  .  .44 
Philosophical  History  ...  44 

Scenic  History 45 

Biography 45 

Complete  History         .        .        .         .45 

Essay 46 

Memoirs 46 

Autobiography  .  .  .  .46 
Journals,  Letters  .  .  .  46 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 
Tales        ......        47 

Fiction 47 

The  Novel 48 

The  Romance 48 

The  Short-Story        .        .        .      .        49 

Tales 50 

The  Allegory          .         .         .        .        50 

Fable 50 

Myth         .....        50 

Parable 50 

Apologue  .         .         .         .51 

Fairy   Tale          .         .         .         .51 
Prose  Drama          .         .         .  51 

Farce  .         .         .         .         .51 

Dialogue  .         .  51 

Description .        .52 

Principles  of  Description        .        .        .        .        52 

Exposition .        .     54 

Principles  of  Exposition        ....        57 

The  Treatise .61 

The  Monograph 61 

The  Essay .        .    62 

The  Didactic  Essay        .        .        .        .63 

The   Personal  Essay         .         .  .64 

The  Moral  Essay          .        .        *        ..       65 
Editorial        .        .        ,        ...        .65 

Public   Addresses          .        .        .        .        65 

Criticism         .         .         .         .        .         .         .66 

Higher   Criticism         ".         .         .         .        66 

The  Abstract        .        .        ...        .66 

Book  Reviews         .         .         .  .        67 

Essayists,   Old  and   New         ...         .69 

Argumentation        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        70 

Nature  of  the  Question          .        .         .         .    72 

Limits  of  the  Question        .        .        .        .        72 

Material        .        .        .        ....        .72 

Evidence        .        .        .        ....        .        73 

Kinds  of  Argument         .         .         .         .         .74 

Induction        ...  .74 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 
Inductive  Methods        .        .        .        .74 

Deduction 75 

Indirect  Proof  .  .     76 

Directions  to  Judges 78 

Poetry        .......  .79 

The  Literature   of  Emotion  79 

Language  Music  79 

Picturesque   Literature         ....        80 
The  Literature  of  the  Senses         .         .         .81 

Ideal  Language 81 

Versification 81 

The  Foot 81 

Kinds  of  Metrical  Feet        ...     83 
Irregular  Accent        ....        85 

The   Verse 86 

The    Time    Scheme         ...        86 
Standard    Lines  .         .         .88 

The  Rhyme  Scheme         ...        88 
Rule  for  Rhyme  .         .         .90 

Middle  Rhyme  ...  90 
Alliteration  .  .  .  .90 

Assonance  ....  90 
The  Refrain  .  .  .  .91 
Unrhymed  Verse  ...  91 

The  Stanza 92 

Stanza   Forms         ....        94 
Hymn    Stanzas  .  .     94 

Elegiac  Stanza  ...  95 
Spenserian  Stanza  .  .  .95 

Sonnet 96 

Kinds  of  Poetry 97 

Lyric    Poetry         .....        97 

The  Ode 98 

The  Elegy  or   Threnody         .         .        98 

Epic  Poetry 98 

The  Grand  Epic        ....        99 
The  Legendary  Epic  .         .         .99 

The  Mock  Epic        .        .        ,  100 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

The  Metrical  Romance  - .  .  100 
The  Metrical  Tale  ...  100 
The  Ballad  .  '  .  .  .  .100 
The  Idyll  or  Pastoral  .  .  101 
The  Allegory  .  .  .  .101 

Descriptive  Poetry        ....        101 

Dramatic  Poetry 102 

Tragedy     and     Comedy        .        .        103 

The  Tragedy        .        .        .        .104 

The   Comedy  ...         105 

The     Subjective    Drama          .         .105 

The  Mask 106 

The    Morality  .         .         .         .106 

Oratory 107 

Persuasion 107 

Orations  as  Permanent  Literature      .      .        108 

Oratorical  Form 109 

Conclusion Ill 

CHAPTER  III. — Courses  of  Reading        ....     113-132 

Foundational  Reading 113 

Course  One 115 

Basis:  Subject  Matter.  Purpose:  Widening  of 
Interest. 

Course  Two .118 

Basis:  Literary  Form.  Purpose:  Cultivation  of 
Literary  Taste. 

Course  Three 119 

Basis:  Criticism.  Purpose:  The  Facilitating  of 
Reading. 

Course  Four .123 

Basis:  World's  Masterpieces  and  Mythology. 
Purpose:  The  Understanding  of  Classic  Allu- 
sion. 

Course  Five .         .     126 

Basis:  Historical  Periods.  Purpose:  The  Trac- 
ing of  the  Growth  of  a  National  Literature. 

Course  Six  129 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Basis:    Miscellaneous  Reading.    Purpose:    The 
Fostering  of  Individual  Interests. 

CHAPTER  IV.— Literary  Art        .....        133-171 

The  Reader's  Art-Sense 133 

The  Thought  Side  and  the  Form  Side  of  Literary 

Composition 135 

The  Creation  of  the  Art-Form 137 

First  Condition  for  a  Good  Art-Form        .        .        137 
Second  Condition  for  a  Good  Art-Form        .        .139 

A  Summary  of  Literary  Art 141 

The  Two  Fundamentals  of  Literary  Art        .  .     142 

The  Elements  of  Structure        .        .        .        .        144 

Unity 144 

Paragraph   Unity         .         .         .         .         145 

Sentence  Unity 146 

Punctuation 146 

Coherence 148 

Emphasis 149 

Proportion         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     150 

Summary  of  Structure        .         .         ..-.-..        .        151 

The  Elements  of  Quality 151 

Clearness 151 

P  Energy 154 

Melody .        .158 

The  Theory  of  Musical  Utterance    .    .       158 

The  Melody  of  Prose        .        .        .        .159 

Melodious  Words  ...        159 

Harmonious  Combinations        .         .     159 

Rhythm  .         .         .         .  159 

Cadence .161 

Onomatopoeia        ....        161 

Alliteration 161 

^Esthetic  Emotion 162 

The  Beautiful 162 

r  The   Sublime         .         .  .         .        163 

The  Pathetic 164 

The  Humorous        .  .        .        .165 


CON  TEN  IS  xiii 

PAGE 

The  Witty 167 

Summary  of  Structure  and  Quality        .        .        .169 
Conclusion 170 

CHAPTER  V. — Composition  Practice        ....     172-181 

The  Creative  Impulse 172 

Method  of  Composition 172 

Subject 173 

Theme 174 

Scale        ........  175 

Accumulation  of  Material 175 

Plagiarism.  17(5 

Organization  of  Material 177 

The  First  Rough  Draft 178 

Revision 178 

Title         .         . 180 

Preparation  for  the  Eye 181 

CHAPTER  VI. — Making  Acquaintance  with  an  Author    .    182-200 
Means  for  Making  Acquaintance        ....        182 

Preparatory  Reading .184 

Preceding  History 184 

Contemporary  History          .          .          .         .    184 

Race 184 

Biography .     184 

Criticism 184 

The  Reading  of  an  Author's  Works        .        .        .184 
Scope        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        184 

Doctrines         . 185 

Quotations . .        185 

Test  Questions  on  Author's  Personality  .  .  185 
Test  Questions  on  Author's  Style  .  .  186 
Final  Result ..187 

The  Reading  of  Contemporary  and  Subsequent 

Literature "187 

Illustration  of  the  Study  of  an  Author        .  .     188 

Thomas  Carlyle .        .        189 

John  Ruskin 195 


"Old  things,  in  proportion  to  their  living  value,  need  from 
time  to  time  to  be  newly  defined  and  distributed,  their  perspec- 
tive and  emphasis  need  to  be  freshly  determined  to  suit  chang- 
ing conditions  of  thought." — John  F.  Genung. 


INTRODUCTION 

Thomas  Oarlyle  summarizes  educational  training 
as  training  in  the  power  to  read.  He  says:  "If  we 
think  of  it,  all  that  a  university  or  final  high  school 
can  do  for  us,  is  still  what  the  first  school  began  doing — 
tach  UB  to  read." 

In  this  teaching  to  read,  the  schools  undertake  to 
do  no  more  for  the  student  than  to  lay  a  basis  which 
will  insure  liberality  in  his  future  reading.  A  student 
is  expected  to  learn  in  school  how  to  read  understand- 
ingly  and  appreciatively,  and  to  form  intelligent  and 
systematic  habits  of  reading,  so  that  he  will  leave 
school  with  what  it  is  the  object  of  the  school  to  fur- 
nish— namely,  a  basis  for  continuing  his  education 
indefinitely.  A  good  reader  will  in  time  become  well 
educated.  The  terms  well  read  and  well  educated  are 
synonymous.  Whether  one  ever  becomes  well-read  or 
not  depends  largely  upon  the  basis  laid  when  one  is 
first  learning  to  read. 

It  is  therefore  the  object  of  this  course  to  give 
some  instruction  concerning  what  constitutes  a  basis 
for  becoming  a  good  reader,  and,  in  time,  becoming 
well-read. 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY 

The  Public  Library  the  People's  University.— 

Free  education  for  the  citizens  of  the  United  States  does 
not  end  with  the  high  school.  Higher  education  is  sup- 
ported at  public  expense,  not  only  by  appropriations  for 
the  support  of  State  Universities — which,  in  Indiana, 
makes  university  education  free — ,  but  by  the  main- 
tenance of  public  libraries  where  education  may  be 
continued  throughout  life.  The  public  library  is  the 
people's  university,  and  a  part  of  our  great  system  of 
public  schools.  "The  true  university  of  these  days,0 
says  Oarlyle.  "is  a  collection  of  books.  A  man  has  not 
now  to  go  away  to  where  a  professor  is  actually  speak- 
ing, because,  in  most  cases,  he  can  get  his  doctrine  out 
of  him  through  a  book,  and  can  read  it,  and  read  it 
again  and  again,  and  study  it.  I  don't  know  that  1 
know  of  any  way  in  which  the  whole  facts  of  a  subject 
may  be  more  completely  taken  in."  Our  government, 
by  making  provision  for  liberal  education,  demands  an 
educated  body  of  citizens.  The  fact  that  the  public 
library  is  supported  at  great  public  expense!  is  proof 
that  it  serves  a  purpose,  in  the  making  of 'citizens,  as 
important  as  that  served  by  the  primary  schools.  Any 
one  who  neglects  any  of  the  provisions  for  education 
will  fall  below  the  national^  standard  ofjcitizenship. 

1 


2  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

The  public  library  is  therefore  no  more  to  be  neglected 
by  any  individual  than  is  any  other  part  of  our  public- 
school  system. 

Universal  Need  for  the  Public  Library. — For 

high-school  students,  a  fundamental  step  towards  be- 
coming a  good  reader  is  to  take  advantage  of  the 
resources  of  the  public  library.  The  conception  of 
what  it  is  to  be  well  read  has  so  broadened  that  a  reader 
can  no  longer  direct  his  own  reading.  Even  when  a 
reader  has  access  to  a  large  and  well-chosen  private 
library,  and  even  when  he  is  able  to  buy  books  for  his 
own  use,  he  still  will  find  in  the  public  library  ad- 
vantages which  no  private  library  offers,  and  constant, 
imperative  occasions  for  the  use  of  these  advantages. 
This  fact  will  become  evident  so  soon  as  a  reader  real- 
izes the  purpose  for  which  the  library  is  supported  as  a 
public  institution.  So  many  erroneous  ideas  prevail 
about  the  use  of  the  public  library,  and  so  many  per- 
sons make  no  more  use  of  it  than  to  get  books  with 
which  to  pass  an  idle  hour,  that  the  purpose  of  this 
great  institution  should  be  emphasized  to  all  readers. 

The  Purpose  of  the  Public  Library. — The  great 
purpose  of  the  public  library  is  to  do  for  a  whole  com- 
munity what  Oarlyle  says  it  is  the  function  of  the 
university  to  do  for  its  students — namely,  to  furnish 
means  by  which  every  individual  may  "relate,  with  a 
wondrous  new  contiguity  and  perpetual  closeness,  the 
Past  and  Distant  with  the  Present  time  and  place;  all 
times  and  all  places  with  our  actual  Here  and.  Now," 
Public  provision  is  made  for  connecting  the  Distant  with 
the  Here  in  order  that  a  community  may  not  become 
provincial,  for  provinciality  is  the  foe  of  progress.  It 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  3 

is  as  a  corrector  of  provinciality  that  the  public  library 
serves  an  important  function  to  every  citizen. 

Provinciality  is  a  self-satisfied  ignorance  of  what 
the  world  as  a  whole  is  thinking  and  accomplishing.  A 
provincial  person  is  self-centered  and  narrow-minded ; 
his  interests  are  confined  to  one  locality  and  to  a  few 
things ;  he  has  the  language,  manners,  and  opinions  of 
those  with  whom  he  daily  associates,  and  supposes  that 
these  forms  of  speech,  manners,  and  opinions  are  those 
of  the  whole  world ;  he  appears  peculiar  when  he  goes 
outside  his  own  locality,  and  is  apt  to  think  that  others 
are  wrong  because  they  are  unlike  himself;  he  is  self- 
satisfied  and  therefore  unprogressive.  Everyone  uncon- 
sciously becomes  provincial  unless  definite  means  are 
used  to  prevent  it.  Comparison  is  the  only  means  for 
correcting  this  tendency  to  become  provincial.  Nothing 
will  correct  provinciality  but  a  wide  acquaintance  with 
the  world,  and  a  comparison  of  local  standards  with 
those  of  other  localities.  Every  individual  needs  to 
compare  himself  with  others.  A  nation  needs  to  make 
constant  comparison  of  its  own  products,  ideas,  and  cus- 
toms with  those  of  other  nations.  Travel  is,  for  the 
few,  the  means  of  observing  our  own  personal  and 
national  life  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  world  in 
general ;  but  the  public  library  furnishes  this  means  to 
all  by  bringing  the  whole  world  to  our  own  doors.  The 
effect  of  the  public  library  in  a  community  is,  there- 
fore, to  make  provinciality  disgraceful. 

A. provincial  person  is  not  a  good  citizen.  He  con- 
tributes nothing  to  the  progress  and  improvement  of 
national  life,  since  he  does  not  see  his  own  province,  or 
locality,  in  its  relation  to  the  nation  as  a  whole,  and  does 


4  THE  READER'S  BASIS- 

not  see  his  own  nation  in  its  true  relation  to  other 
nations.  It  is  important  for  national  prosperity  that 
every  citizen  should  be  cosmopolitan — that  is,  a  citizen 
of  the  world,  as  well  as  a  citizen  of  the  locality  in 
which  he  happens  to  live.  The  public  library  under- 
takes to  furnish  the  means  for  making  such  citizens. 

The  Means  for  Correcting:  Provinciality. — The 

public  library  serves  the  purpose  of  a  corrector  of  pro- 
vinciality only  to  the  person  who  will  take  the  pains  to 
frequent  it.  The  public  library  is  not  merely  a  place 
where  one  may  get  books  to  read ;  it  is  a  place  wkere 
one  should  drop  in  casually  and  frequently — as  often  as 
once  a  month — not  necessarily  for  the  purpose  of  car- 
rying away  a  book,  but  to  look  about  and  to  pick  up 
information  by  observing  those  means  for  keeping 
abreast  of  the  times  which  it  is  the  business  of  the 
library  to  furnish.  These  means  are  found  in  four  dif- 
ferent rooms — the  reading-room,  the  art-room,  the 
reference-room,  and  the  children's  room. 

THE  READING  ROOM.— The  reading-room  is  the 
place  where  one  may  correct  provinciality  of  thought 
and  interest. 

MAGAZINES. — The  magazines  are  the  chief  means 
for  regulating  one's  interests.  The  purposeless  picking 
up  of  one  magazine,  and  the  reading  of  any  article  that 
the  eye  may  chance  upon,  is  not  recommended  as  a  wise 
employment  of  time.  If  the  visitor  to  the  library  will 
go  to  the  magazines  with  a  conscious  purpose,  he  will 
soon  recover  from  the  usual  habit  of  idly  dawdling  over 
magazines.  This  purpose  should  be  to  see  what  the 
world  is  thinking  about,  in  order  to  direct  one's  own. 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  5 

interest  in  the  same  channels  that  the  public  mind  is 
taking. 

TABLES  OF  CONTENTS. — Few  people  have  the  time  to 
read  extensively,  and  so  the  reader  must  learn  to  econ- 
omize time.  The  greatest  widening  of  interest  may  be 
accomplished  in  the  shortest  time  by  scanning  the 
tables  of  contents  of  many  magazines.  This  will  put 
one  in  touch  with  contemporary  thought.  This  getting 
of  nothing  more  than  the  subjects  of  the  world's  thought 
is  a  great  corrector  of  mental  provinciality.  It  is  more 
important,  for  the  purpose  of  correcting  provinciality, 
to  get  the  range  of  public  interest  than  to  read  a  few 
articles  thoroughly.  One  can  get  an  idea.of  the  gen- 
eral direction  of  public  thought  each  month  by  noticing 
the  similarity  of  topics  treated  in  the  leading  articles 
of  most  of  the  magazines.  If,  at  the  beginning  of  every 
month,  one  will  take  the  exercise  of  scanning  tables  of 
contents,  one  will  be  prepared  to  choose  intelligently 
the  few  magazine  articles  that  he  will  have  time  to 
read  during  the  month.  Moreover,  having  had  atten- 
tion called  to  certain  topics,  one  will  casually  pick  up 
bits  of  information  about  them  that  will  prevent  one 
from  getting  hopelessly  behind  the  times. 

POOLERS  INDEX. — If  one  has  not  enough  time  even  to 
scan  the  tables  of  contents  of  magazines,  one  can  get 
the  same  result  more  quickly  by  using  Poole's  Index  of 
magazine  literature.  This  index,  found  in  the  reading- 
room,  is  published  in  yearly  supplements,  and  gives 
the  title,  author,  and  magazine  of  every  magazine 
article  published.  The  articles  are  classified  under 
subjects  arranged  alphabetically,  so  that  at  a  glance 
one  may  know  all  the  magazine  articles  published  on 


6  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

a  certain  subject.  Thus  one  can  quickly  see  what  sub- 
jects have  held  public  interest  during  any  year,  and 
how  many  magazines  have  given  space  to  the  same 
subject,  and  can  get  in  this  way  an  idea  of  the  rela- 
tive importance  of  certain  subjects. 

THE  READER'S  RESOURCES. — The  reader's  interests 
are  broadened  by  having  access  to  a  larger  number 
of  magazines  than  are  likely  to  be  found  in  a  private 
house.  A  person's  taste  and  culture  determine  the 
selection  of  the  magazines  which  are  regularly  sub- 
scribed for;  whereas,  in  the  public  library,  one's  lim- 
ited interest  is  broadened  by  seeing  the  magazines 
which  appeal  to  all  classes  of  people.  A  bulletin  of 
all  the  magazines  to  be  found  in  the  library  hangs  in 
the  reading-room,  by  means  of  which  one  may  become 
familiar  with  at  least  the  .names  of  the  leading  maga- 
zines. It  is  worth  while  to  study  this  list  in  order  to 
broaden  one's  conception  of  the  variety  of  interests 
which  the  magazines  represent.  A  reader  should  early 
make  himself  familiar  with  all  the  leading  magazines. 
By  examining  a  different  group  each  month,  a  reader 
with  limited  time  may  soon  become  acquainted  with 
the  large  number  which  now  deserve  to  be  called  lead- 
ing magazines.  One  should  continue  this  process  until 
one  has  become  able  to  recognize  the  distinctive  char- 
acter of  each  magazine,  and  has  made  an  almost  uncon- 
scious classification  of  them,  so  that  finally  one  comes 
to  know  in  what  particular  magazine  to  look  for  the  best 
treatment  of  certain  classes  of  subjects.  Provinciality 
is  also  corrected  by  observing  what  those  subjects  are 
which,  from  time  to  time,  become  of  such  universal 
interest  that  a  magazine  is  devoted  exclusively  to  that 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  7 

one  subject;  for  instance,  periodicals  devoted  exclu- 
sively to  electrical  engineering,  geneology,  sociology, 
photography,  domestic  science,  manual  training. 

ILLUSTRATED  MAGAZINES. — The  illustrations  in  the 
magazines  leave  no  one  an  excuse  for  not  being  trav- 
eled, and  for  not  having  at  least  a  sight  acquaintance 
with  the  prominent  people  of  the  day.  At  least  one 
visit  a  month  to  the  library  should  be  devoted  to 
nothing  else  but  the  rambling  through  strange  coun- 
tries and  among  eminent  people  which  the  illustrations 
in  the  magazines  make  possible. 

NEWSPAPERS. — The  newspapers  must  not  be  neg- 
lected as  a  means  for  correcting  provinciality.  The 
newspaper  files  in  the  reading-room  are  provided  with 
the  leading  papers  of  several  large  cities.  An  occa- 
sional visit  to  these,  even  to  do  no  more  than  to  glance 
hurriedly  over  the  headlines  and  first-page  cartoons, 
will  keep  one  in  touch  with  the -life  in  different  com- 
munities. Newspapers  headline  and  cartoon  events 
which  are  important  to  the  locality  in  which  the  news- 
paper is  published,  and  also  events  of  universal  impor- 
tance ;  so,  by  a  comparison  of  events  headlined  or 
cartooned  by  papers  of  widely  separated  localities,  one 
learns  the  relative  importance  of  daily  events  better 
than  one  can  learn  it  from  the  reading  of  any  one 
newspaper,  even  though  that  newspaper  aims  to  pub- 
lish the  events  of  the  whole  world,  and  to  give  these 
events  in  their  proper  relation. 

The  great  illustrated  newspapers,  such  as  Frank 
Leslie's  Weekly,  Harper's  Weekly,  Illustrated  London  News,  or 
The  Graphic^  make  us  spectators  at  every  event  of  im- 


'8  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

portance,  so  that  our  private  circumstances  cannot  cut 
us  off  from  participation  in  the  world's  doings. 

THE  ART  ROOM.— The  art-room  is  the  place 
where  one  may  correct  a  provincial  taste. 

RESOURCES. — The  art-room,  as  much  as  the  reading- 
room,  is  the  place  for  short,  casual  calls  for  the 
purpose  of  observing  more  than  reading.  Taste  can  be 
cultivated  only  by  looking  upon  the  best  things  that 
the  world  has  produced.  The  art-room  cultivates,  pub- 
lic taste  by  {putting  within  the  reach  of  all  persons 
those  expensive  books  of  plates  that  reproduce  all  the 
achievements  of  human  skill  which  could  otherwise 
be  seen  only  by  extensive  travel.  These  plates,  pic- 
turing all  the  arts  and  crafts,  afford  the  means  for  wide 
comparison,  and  will  thus  correct  that  provincial  con- 
ceit which  arises  from  insufficient  comparison  of  one's 
own  work  and  surroundings  with  the  work  and  sur- 
roundings of  others.  Thus  any  one,  however  poor  his 
environment  may  be",  can  become  a  fair  judge  of  what 
is  beautiful  and  what  is  ugly,  and  so  contribute  his 
share  in  the  general  modern  effort  to  secure  beautiful 
surroundings. 

THE  EDUCATOR  OF  PUBLIC  TASTE, — The  art-room  is  as 
important  as  the  reading-room,  because  a  provincial 
taste  is  as  damaging  to  good  citizenship  as  is  a  provin- 
cial ignorance  of  current  thought  and  events.  Good 
taste  has  become  a  modern  requirement  of  the  good 
citizen.  He  is  expected  to  have  opinions  about  such 
things  as  public  architecture,  public  sculpture,  land- 
scape treatment  in  public  parkland  the  beautifying 
of  suburbs,  as  well  as  about  ihe  building  and  furnish- 
ing of  pri vate  horn e s .  * it>-  the  ar t<-room  may  be  found 


THE  USE  OE  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  :0 

illustrated  books  .by  means  of  which  one  may  compare 
one's  ;own  city  with  the  cities  of  the  world — their  pub- 
i  lie  squares,  architecture,  monuments,  bridges,  foun- 
tains, and  parks.  Also,  there  are  books  in  which  one 
''  may  study . , home  decorations— books  showing  home 
architecture,  gardens,  and  every  smallest  detail  of  in- 
terior furnishing,  showing  the  taste  of  every  period, 
from  ancient  to  modern  times,  and  giving  examples  of 
the  best  modern  taste.  A  sense  for  harmonious  color- 
corn  bin  aiioris'ah'd  for  good  designing  can  be  cultivated 
by  studying  the  colored  plates  of  oriental  rugs,  tapes- 
tries, wall-papers,  textile  fabrics  of  all  kinds,  and  of 
famous  decorated  vases.  There  is,  therefore,  no  ex- 
cuse for  provincial  ideas  concerning  one's  own  city  or 
home. 

CRAFTS. — Art  is  now  so  associated  with  the  crafts 
that  anyone  can  find,  in  the  art-room ,  books  and  illus- 
trations of  special  interest  to  himself.  Any  craftsman 
is  expected  to  make  use  of  the  means  offered  by  the 
art-room  to  compare  his  own  handiwork  with  tha.t  of 
the  experts,  so  that  his  own  work  may  be  progressive, 
.  and  finally  equal  or  excel  that  done  anywhere  else  in 
•the  world . 

; . .--. .:..-•  THE:EiELi)  OF<  ART.— The   field  of  art  is,  more  ex- 
tensive than  qne  who  never  visits  the  art-room  may 
imagine.    :  It  includes  book-binding,  book-cover  designs, 
book-plates^,  methods  ^illustrating  literature,  printing- 
j-typev  alphabets  and  illumination,  posters,  photographs, 
i  -bronzes.-,- ; tiles*  enamels  anct-  mosaics,  art-glass,  leather 
:  and  nietul  work,  wood-carving,  china  and  glass-painting, 
i  pottery,;  embr/pMery  and  laces,  costumes  of  all  countries 
and  .ages^^niforinsigf  v armies  and  clans,  heraldry,  fur- 


10  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

niture,  jewelry  and  musical  instruments.  All  these 
are  things  of  common  public  interest,  concerning 
which  one  may  quickly  become  provincial,  or  behind 
the  times  in  taste  and  knowledge.  Anyone  can  get  a 
fair  knowledge  of  these  subjects  by  merely  looking  at 
the  illustrations  which  fill  the  books  devoted  to  these 
arts. 

THE  FINE  ARTS — .The  fine  arts — painting,  sculpture, 
architecture,  music — may  be  thoroughly  studied  by 
means  of  books  provided  in  the  art-room.  There  are 
dictionaries  of  art  terms,  histories  of  art,  biographies 
of  artiste,  and  art  periodicals.  A  good  public  library 
will  carry  a  collection  of  copies  of  the  works  of  noted 
artists  in  each  branch  of  the  fine  arts.  There  are  folios 
of  the  masterpieces  of  painting,  sculpture,  architecture, 
etching,  engraving,  and  mural-painting.  There  are 
books  showing  interesting  collections  :  for  instance,  the 
lover  of  these  arts  who  cannot  travel -can  see  in  one 
book  good  representations  of  all  the  works  of  art  ex- 
hibited at  the  Paris  Exposition ;  in  the  same  way  he 
may^  roam  through  the  London  Royal  Academy,  and 
through  the  castles  and  country-houses  of  England  with 
all  their  treasures  of  art,  and  visit  the  great  cathedrals 
of  the  world.  One  can  make  a  study  of  any  individual 
artist  of  note  by  means  of  a  collection  of  reproductions, 
accompanied  with  criticisms.  Musicians  may  find  in 
the  art-room  the  scores  of  all  the  standard  operas,  sym- 
phonies, oratorios^  cantatas,  masses,  national  songs,  or 
noted  compositions  of  any  sort,  of  all  periods,  and  for 
all  kinds  of  instruments  and  occasions.  Any  individual 
composer  may  be  studied  by  means  of  the  collection  of 
his  own  compositions,  accompanied  by  explanations. 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  11 

There  are  books  explaining  the  methods  of  different 
great  teachers,  giving  the  principles  of  vocal  and 
instrumental  music,  and  all  kinds  of  advice  to  musi- 
cians. There  are  year-books  published,  by  means  of 
which  one  may  watch  the  progress  of  art  in  different 
countries  from  year  to  year.  There  are  collections  by 
means  of  which  one  may  study  different  schools  of  art, 
and  collections  which  show  comparative  development 
in  art  matters  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

To  remain  provincial  in  taste  when  all  these  means 
are  provided  to  correct  taste,  or  to  disregard  art  as  a 
civilizing  influence,  is  to  forfeit,  in  these  days,  any 
claim  to  a  liberal  education. 

THE  KEFERENOE  ROOM.— The  reference-room 
is  the  place  where,  by  frequent  calls,  one  can  guard 
against  the  danger  of  becoming  provincial  in  one's 
reading.  Visits  to  this  room  will  keep  one  in  sympathy 
with  the  general  reading  public,  and  prepare  one  to 
make  an  intelligent  choice  of  books  when  time  is  found 
for  reading. 

BULLETINS. — The  reference-room  is  the  center  of 
information  about  books,  and  where  every  pains  is 
taken  to  keep  the  public  informed  about  new  books. 
By  means  of  bulletins  hung  about  the  room,  attention 
is  called  to  the  books  lately  purchased  by  the  library. 
It  is  worth  while  to  notice  these  purchases  as  an  indica- 
tion of  public  demand,  or  the  direction  that  the  public 
mind  is  taking.  Sometimes  biography  will  predominate, 
sometimes  psychology, and  again  literary  criticism  seems 
to  be  the  demand.  This  gives  one  a  hint  for  one's  own 
reading.  There  will  always  be  a  long  list  of  fiction 
among  the  new  books,  but  it  broadens  one  to  notice  how 


12  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

great  a  number  of  non-fiction  books  are  being  bought 
in  answer  to  the  popular  demand.  Attractive  posters 
proclaim  the  books  that  everybody  is  reading,  and  a 
special  book-case  invites  the  visitor  to  examine  the 
newest  books  before  they  are  put  away  in  the  stock- 
room. There  is  usually  posted  somewhere  a  list  of 
books  suggested  by  the  season  of  the  year,  or  a  list  of 
books  upon  a  subject  that  some  event  of  the  day  has 
made  of  public  interest.  Attention  is  often  called  to 
some  anniversary  by  the  list  of  books  posted  for  that 
day. 

THE  CARD  CATALOGUE. — The  reference-room  is  the 
place  wrhere  the  reader  gets  acquainted  with  the 
resources  of  the  library.  The  reader  should  learn  to 
command  these  resources  rather  than  to  depend  upon 
the  assistance  of  the  clerks.  To  do  this,  the  reader 
must  become  expert  in  using  the  card-catalogue  which 
is  found  in  this  room.  Every  book  is  catalogued  three 
times  in  the  card-eatalogue ;  namely,  under  the  prin- 
cipal word  in  the  title  of  the  book,  under  the  author's 
name,  and  under  the  name  of  the  subject  treated.  If 
a  student  is  interested  in  a  subject,  his  first  step  is  to 
find  that  subject  in  the  card-catalogue  and  learn  what 
books  are  available  on  that  subject.  It  requires  some 
practice  to  become  expert  in  using  the  catalogue  for 
this  purpose,  because  any  subject  may  be  expressed  by 
several  different  words,  and  it  is  difficult  to  determine 
under  what  particular  word  the  desired  books  are  in- 
dexed. Some  of  the  books  on  a  subject  may  be  cata- 
logued under  one  name  of  that  subject,  and  some 
under  another,  and  it  is  only  by  ^ingenuity  in  trying 
different  words  which  might  possibly  express  the  sub- 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY  13 

ject  that  all  the  desired  reading  may  be  found.  For 
instance,  if  a  student  is  interested  in  the  subject  of 
public  speaking,  he  will  find  books  upon  his  subject 
catalogued  under  all  the  following  words :  elocution, 
oratory,  eloquence,  expression,  speeches  and  speech- 
making,  addresses,  toasts  and  tributes,  briefs  and 
debate,  language,  forensic*,  voice,  parliamentary  prac- 
tice. If  the  puzzled  student  will  ask  for  the  A.  L.  A. 
List  of  Subject-Headings,  he  may  find  under  one  word 
the  other  words  under  which  books  on  the  same  subject 
may  be  catalogued.  The  card-catalogue  is  useful  in 
pointing  out  the  reading  which  may  be  done  in  con- 
nection with  some  one  author.  Look  for  the  author's 
name,  and  upon  the  successive  cards  bearing  his  name 
will  be  found  the  books  written  by  this  author,  and  also 
the  books  or  articles  giving  biographical  information 
about  the  author  and  criticisms  of  his  work. 

THE  FINDING  LISTS.— The  finding-list*,  scattered 
about  on  the  tables  in  the  reference-room,  are  another 
means  for  learning  the  resources  of  the  library.  The 
card-catalogue  is  for  the  use  of  those  readers  who  have 
already  become  interested  in  some  subject  or  author ; 
the  finding-lists  are  for  those  persons  who  need  sug- 
gestion as  to  what  subjects  there  are  to  choose  among. 
In  the  finding-lists,  books  are  classified  under  a  few 
grand-divisions,  a  separately-bound  list  for  each  grand- 
division  ;  for  instance,  one  for  history,  one  for  fiction^ 
one  for  .biography,  one  for  science,,  etc:  -  in  each 
finding-list,  the  subject  is  shown  in  all  vfesr  ^sub- 
divisions, and  under  each  sub-division  are  the  titles  of 
the  books  treating  that  particular  phase  of  the  subject. 
In  this  way  the  whole  field  of  literature  is  spread  out 


14  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

to  the  eye.     Familiarity  with  these  finding-lists  is  the 

basis  for  wide  and  well-balanced  reading. 

STANDARD  INDEXES. — The  card-catalogue  and  the 
finding-lists  give  only  those  books  which  are  owned  by 
the  library.  If  one  wishes  to  know  all  tfye  books  that 
are  published  on  a  subject,  the  A.  L.  A.  Index,  or  the 
Peabody  Catalogue,  both  found  in  the  reference-room, 
will  give  the  information. 

REFERENCE  CLERKS. — Not  the  least  of  the  advan- 
tages found  in  the  reference-room  is  the  privilege  of 
conversation  with  the  reference  clerks,  and  of  their 
assistance  in  pursuing'  some  line  of  investigation. 
There  are  some  matters  of  book-news  that  can  be 
obtained  only  through  the  reference  clerks,  such,  for 
instance,  as  the  class  of  people  to  whom  certain  books 
appeal,  or  the  comparative  circulation  of  certain  books. 
Moreover,  it  is  through  the  reference  clerks  that  one 
may  get  access  to  the  books-of-help  for  readers — those 
books  so  full  of  advice  concerning  everything  that  a 
reader  needs  to  know  that  they  take  the  place  of  the 
teacher  and  the  class-room.  These  books,  usually  found 
back  of  the  clerk's  desk,  cannot  be  well  classified  in 
the  catalogues,  and  the  reader  must  depend  upon  the 
clerk  for  getting  those  "helps"  suited  to  his  individual 
needs. 

SCHOOL  REFERENCE  ROOM. — In  connection  with  the 
reference-room,  there  is  the  school  reference-room 
where  pupils  in  the  schools  may  be  directed  in  their 
reading.  The  clerk  is  acquainted  with  the  character  of 
the  work  done  in  different  school  grades  and  is  pre- 
pared to  give  assistance  in  looking  up  any  subject  con- 
nected with  school  work.  The  character  of  the  work 


THE  USE  OF  THE  PURLIC  LIBRARY  15 

done  in  this  room  is  indicated  by  the  bulletins  posted ; 
for  instance,  in  the  month  of  April,  the  visitor  to  this 
room  might  have  seen  the  following  lists — Books  on 
Early  Spring  Flowers,  Best  Articles  in  the  April  Maga- 
zines, Books  on  the  Subject  of  the  High  School  Debate, 
Books  for  Students  of  Civics. 

THE  CHILDREN'S  ROOM.— The  children's  room 
is  the  place  where  the  child  learns  to  extend  the 
boundaries  of  his  own  environment,  and  where  the 
grown  person  may  correct  his  provincial  notions  about 
the  methods  of  education  for  the  young.  Nothing  bet- 
ter shows  the  enormous  advance  made  in  civilization 
than  the  character  of  the  books  and  periodicals  pre- 
pared for  children.  A  visit  to  this  room  will  change 
one's  views  as  to  what  is  and  what  is  not  suitable  for 
children,  and  will  afford  valuable  suggestions  about 
child-nature  and  how  to  meet  it  helpfully. 

CONCLUSION.— The  purpose  of  this  chapter  hag 
been  to  urge  that  the  public  library  be  used  as  a  means 
for  shaking  off  provinciality,  which  is  the  foe  of  cul- 
ture and  progress,  and  to  show  what  can  be  done 
towards  keeping  abreast  of  the  times  by  spending  an 
occasional  half-hour  in  the  library,  and  using  one's 
power  of  observation  rather  than  doing  much  reading. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  HEADER'S  FIELD 

Classification  of  Books. — At  the  outset  of  a 
reader's  career,  it  is  important  that  the  reader  should 
not  have  a  provincial  conception  of  what  it  is  to  be 
well-read.  A  first  step  is  to  get  a  view  of  the  whole 
range  of  literature  and  see  what  ground  must  be  cov- 
ered before  a  reader  may  call  himself  well-read.  This 
wholeness  of  view  at  the  beginning  is  made  possible  by 
two  classifications  of  literature — one  classification 
based  on  subject-matter,  the  other  based  on  literary 
form.  The  first  classification,  based  on  subject-matter, 
reduces  the  great  mass  of  books  to  a  few  classes  which 
enable  the  reader  to  see  at  a  glance  the  whole  field  of 
knowledge.  The  other  classification,  based  on  literary 
form,  shows  the  variety  of  forms  in  which  any  subject- 
matter  may  be  presented.  It  is  the  reader's  first  busi- 
ness to  learn  the  names  of  the  classes  of  books,  and  of 
the  literary  forms,  and  to  get  some  idea  of  the  nature 
of  the  books  belonging  to  each  class,  and  the  distinc- 
tive features  of  each  literary  form. 

The  following  classification  is  that  adopted  by 
libraries.  In  different  libraries,  the  classification  may 
vary  slightly,  but  the  following  list  covers  all  the  real 
distinctions  based  upon  subject-matter. 

16 


THE  READER'S  FIELD 
I 

CLASSES   OF  BOOKS 

1. 

Reference  Books 

12. 

Natural  Science 

2. 

3. 
4. 

Literature  or 
Literary  Criticism 
Poetry 
Drama 

13. 

14. 
15. 

Political  Science 
and  Economics 
Sociology 
Law 

5. 

Fiction 

16. 

Medicine 

6. 

7. 
8. 

Biography 
History 
Travels 

.17. 
18. 
19. 

Education 
Language 
Philosophy  and 
Occult  Science 

9. 
10. 

Fine  Arts 
Useful  Arts 

20. 
21. 

Religion,  includ- 
ing Mythology 
Greek  and  Latin 
Classics 

11. 

NaturaJ  History 

22. 

Polygraphy 

17 


REFERENCE  BOOKS.— The  object  of  reference 
books  is  to  make  information  easy  of  access.  To  know 
one's  helps  and  how  to  use  them  is  the  foundation  of 
scholarship.  It  is  impossible  to  give  in  small  space  an 
adequate  idea  of  the  great  variety  of  books  in  this 
class.  The  latest  supplements  of  the  library  finding- 
lists  make  the  attempt  to  classify  the  great  mass  of 
books  in  this  class;  and  by  looking  at  the  'titles  of 
books  in  this  finding-list,  one  will  be  impressed  with 
the  fact  that  in  books  of  this  class  every  sort  of  guid- 
ance and  advice  may  be  found  for  pursuing  any  line 
of  study. 

DICTIONARIES. — A  dictionary  is  a  book  containing 
the  terms  and  definitions  belonging  to  some  one  subject ; 
for  instance,  the  dictionary  of  the  English  language, 


18  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

the  dictionary  of  architecture,  of  music,  of  carpentry, 
of  antiquities.  Every  subject  has  its  dictionary — a 
fact  which  makes  this  class  of  books  endless  in 
variety.  The  terms  and  definitions  in  these  books 
furnish  first  suggestions  for  extended  study.  The 
thorough  study  of  any  subject  should  begin  with  the 
dictionary  devoted  to  that  subject. 

ENCYCLOPAEDIAS. — An  encyclopaedia  gives  information 
about  all  subjects.  The  reader  goes  to  the  encyclopaedia 
to  get  the  fundamental  facts  of  a  subject  upon  which 
to  build  later  information.  The  encyclopaedia  aims  to 
give  every  subject  in  its  most  condensed  form,  and  to 
have  the  information  reliable  as  far  as  it  goes. 

CONCORDANCES. — A  concordance  is  a  book  of  quota- 
tions from  one  author,  classified  as  to  subject.  There 
are  concordances  of  the  Bible,  of  Shakespeare,  and  of 
most  of  the  great  writers.  A  concordance  furnishes  the 
quickest  way  to  get  some  acquaintance  with  an  author, 
for,  by  glancing  at  the  quotations  arranged  under  sub- 
jects, one  can  get  a  fair  idea  of  the  author's  general 
line  of  thought.  The  main  objection  to  this  use  of  the 
concordance  is  that  a  single  quotation,  separated  from 
its  context,  never  truly  represents  an  author's  thought. 
A  concordance  is  mainly  useful  for  furnishing  an  index 
to  an  author's  writings. 

BIBLIOGRAPHIES. — A  bibliography  is  a  list  of  selected 
best  books  or  magazine  articles  on  one  subject.  Bibli- 
ographies of  many  subjects  are  published,  accompanied 
by  advice  as  to  the  best  way  to  pursue  the  study  of  a 
subject.  The  reference  clerk  of  a  library  will,  upon 
request,  make  a  bibliography  of  any  subject  desired. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  .  19 

A  bibliography  saves  a  reader's  time,  and  prevents 
desultory  reading. 

YEAR-BOOKS.— Year-books  furnish  information  about 
the  events  of  a  single  year.  The  great  newspapers 
annually, get  out  a  year-book  of  events.  Some  maga- 
zines publish ja^year- book  of  literary  events.  Progress 
from  year  tp,iye&r,;in  many  lines,  may  be  traced  by  the 
year-books.^,;  i 

ATLASEs;-^Atlases  are  among  the  most  interesting 
of  reference-books.'  There  are  atlases  prepared  in  the 
interest  of  nVany  different  subjects;  for  instance,  the 
railroad  atlas,  the  atlas  of  explorers'  routes,  the  ship- 
pers' atlas,  the  seaman's  atlas,  the  atlas  showing  the 
routes  of  marine  commerce,  the  atlas  of  the  classics, 
and  atlases  in  which  one  may  study  the  history  of  the 
expansion  of  national  territory. 
Examples : 

The  Century  Dictionary  of  Names. 

The  New  International  Encyclopaedia. 
,#.*  The  World's  Almanac. 

Who's  Who  in  America. 

History  for  Ready  Reference. — J.  N.  Lamed. 

LITERATUKE  OR  LITERARY  CRITICISM.— Next 

after  reference-books,  the  books  classed  as  criticism 
should  most  engage  the  attention  of  the  reader  who  is 
laying  a  basis  for  future  reading,  for  here  are  the 
books  about  books.  It  is  in  the  books  of  this  class  that 
the  reader  gets  his  introduction  to  the  wide  field  of 
literature — a  field  so  wide  that,  without'gui dance  from 
the  critics,  the  reader  would  lose  much  time  in  aimless 
wandering,  and  would  probably  miss  the  things  of 
greatest  interest.  It  is  by  reading  books  in  this  class 


20  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

that  a  literary  taste  is  awakened,  developed,  and  cor- 
rected. One  may  indefinitely  extend  his  culture  by 
continuing,  throughout  life,  an  acquaintance  with  the 
books  of  this  class.  The  character  of  the  books  is  that 
of  the  conversation  of  literary  people,  most  of  the  books 
being  light,  popular  essays  about  all  sorts  of  literary 
matters.  There  are  also  interpretive  studies  of  all  the 
masterpieces  of  literature  and  of  all  eminent  authors, 
as  well  as  histories  of  literature,  and  books  containing 
all  information  necessary  to  intelligent  reading.  In 
connection  with  the  books  of  this  class,  one  should  read 
such  periodicals  as  The  Bookman,  The  Nation,  The  Dial, 
The  Literary  World. 

Examples : 

A  Study  of  Prose  Fiction  — Bliss  Perry. 

Varied  Types.  — G.  K.  Chesterton. 

Younger  American  Poets.—  Jesiie  Rittenhause. 

Counsel  Upon  Reading  of  Books.— H.  M.  Stephens. 

POETRY,  DRAMA,  FICTION.— The  subject  mat- 
ter in  these  three  classes  is  the  same — namely,  the 
social  relations  of  human  life.  Writings  in  these 
classes  have  for  their  object  the  expression  of  human 
emotion,  the  portrayal  of  human  life,  and  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  problems  of  human  existence.  These 
three  classes  are  really  the  three  literary  forms  in 
which  this  subject  matter  is  set  forth,  but  it  is  ctistom- 
ary  to  speak  of  them  also  as  classes  of  books. 

Examples : 

Poetry:    The  Golden  Treasury.  —Francis  Palgrave. 
Drama:    Nathan  Hale.— Clyde  Fitch. 
Fiction:     Library  of  the  World's  Best  Mystery  Stories, — 
Edited  by  Julian  Hawthorne, 


21  THE  READER'S  FIELD 

BIOGRAPHY.— The  purposes  of  biography  are, 
first,  to  give  permanence  to  the  fame  of  distinguished 
persons,  and  to  interpret  their  lives  for  the  inspiration 
of  later  generations ;  and  second,  to  make  a  study  of 
social  life  by  means  of  the  facts  of  a  single  individual's 
life.  The  history  of  any  period  may  be  read  in  the 
biographies  of  representative  men,  and  a  fair  idea  may 
be  had  of  the  arts  and  sciences  through  biographies  of 
persons  eminent  in  those  fields.  It  is  worth  while  to 
study  the  library  finding-list  of  biography  just  to  get 
the  names  of  people  who  have  been  considered  worthy 
of  biographies,  and  thus  to  test  one's  general  acquaint- 
ance with  great  names.  B  )  )ks  for  pursuing  the  study 
of  genealogy  are  found  in  this  class. 

Examples : 

Theodore  Roosevelt :  The  Boy  and  the  Man.  —James  Morgan. 
Four  American  Leaders.—  Charles  W.  Eliot. 
Stare  of  the  Opera.— Mabel  Wagnalls. 

Series:     American    Men  of  Letters,   American  Statesmen, 
Great  Writers. 

HISTORY.— The  books  classed  as  history  give  an 
account  of  the  means  and  the  events  through  which  the 
world  has  reached  its  present  state  of  social  develop- 
ment. The  object  of  reading  in  this  class  is  not  so  much 
to  know  the  past  as  an  end  in  itself,  as  it  is  to  get  an 
intelligent  understanding  of  the  present  by  seeing  how 
it  has  evolved  out  of  the  whole  past.  The  reader  is 
recommended  to  study  the  latest  finding-lists  in  the 
library  in  order  to  get,  by  means  of  the  classifications 
of  history,  the  range  of  historical  reading  as  the  modern 
reader  should  know  it.  One  should  as  early  as  possible 
trace  the  story  of  the  development  of  the  nations  of 


22  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

the  world,  so  as  to  be  prepared  to  watch  the  progress 
of  contemporary  history. 

Examples : 

Recollections  of  the  Civil  War.— Charles  W.  Dana. 

The  Great  Locomotive  Chase:     An  Incident   of   the  Civil 

War.— William  Pittenger. 
Ian  Hamilton's  March:    The  South  African  War.— Winston 

Spencer  Churchill. 

Human  Bullets:  A  Story  of  Port  Arthur.— Tadayoshi  Sakurai. 
The  Rulers  of  the  South. — F.  Marion  Crawford. 
The  Expansion  of  the  American  People. —Edwin  Erie  Sparks. 

TRAVELS. — Books  of  travel  not  only  prepare  the 
reader  for  travel,  but  can  be  made  the  substitute  for 
it.  Books  in  this  class  extend  one's  knowledge  of 
geography,  make  all  parts  of  the  world  familiar,  and 
add  much  to  a  reader's  culture  as  well  as  enjoyment. 
This  class  includes  accounts  of  explorers. 
Examples : 

A  White  Umbrella  in  Mexico.  —  F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 

Winged  Wheels  in  France. — Michael  Myers  Shoemaker. 

Across  the  Plains. — R.  L.  Stevenson. 

FINE  ARTS.— The  class  of  fine  arts  includes  not 
only  what  has  long  been  recognized  as  the  fine  arts — 
namely,  painting,  architecture,  sculpture,  music,  but 
also  many  other  arts  which,  because  beauty  is  their 
aim,  are  now  classed  with  the  fine  arts.  A  reader  can 
get  an  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  field  of  art  by  examin- 
ing the  finding-list  supplements  in  the  library,  and 
noticing  the  subjects  treated  by  books  in  this  class. 

Examples : 

Stones  of  Venice. — John  Ruskin. 

•     The  Music  of  the  Masters :    Wagner. — Ernest  Newman. 
A  Short  History  of  Architecture:    Europe. — Russell  Sturgis. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  23 

USEFUL  ARTS.— The  useful  arts  include  all  the 
trades,  inventions,  manufactures,  machinery,  mining, 
civil  engineering,  military  and  nautical  arts,  sports 
and  games,  domestic  economy,  agriculture,  horticul- 
ture,— in  fact,  all  the  industries  engaged  in  by  man. 
It  will  be  an  education  merely  to  look  at  the  subdi- 
visions of  this  class  in  the  finding-lists,  and  the  titles 
of  the  books  in  each  subdivision. 
Examples : 

Yard i and  Garden.— Tarkington  Baker. 

Three  Acres  and  Liberty. — Bolton  Hall. 

Food  and  Dietetics.— Alice  Norton. 

Camp  and  Trail.— Stewart  Edward  White. 

The  Book  of  Camping  and  Woodcraft. — Horace  Kephart. 

NATURAL  HISTORY.— Science  books  which  mere- 
ly describe  natural  objects  are  classed  as  natural 
history.  They  are  divided  into  three  classes  :  biology, 
the  study  of  life  in  all  its  forms ;  geology,  the  study  of 
the  structure  of  the  earth ;  mineralogy,  the  study  of 
minerals.  Biology  includes:  anthropology  and  ethnol- 
ogy, the  study  of  man ;  zoology,  the  study  of  animals, 
birds,  insects,  fishes ;  botany,  the  study  of  plants,  in- 
cluding bacteriology,  the  study  of  germs. 

Examples : 

The  Study  of  Man.— Alfred  C.  Haddon. 

The  Indians'  Book.— Natalie  Curtis. 

The  Life  ot  the  Bee.— Maurice  Maeterlinck. 

Science  Sketches.— David  Starr  Jordan. 

Gleanings  from  Nature.— W.  S  Blatchley. 

Birds  of  Buzzard's  Roost.— William  Wation  Woollen. 

Nature  Study  and  Life  — C.  F.  Hodge- 

NATURAL   SCIENCE.— Science  books  which  ex- 
plain phenomena  are  classed  as  natural  science.     They 


24  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

are  divided  into  five  classes :  astronomy,  the  study  of 
heavenly  bodies ;  chemistry,  the  study  of  the  com- 
position of  matter ;  physics,  the  study  of  the  properties 
of  matter;  physiography,  the  study  of  the  exterior 
features  of  the  earth ;  meteorology,  the  study  of  the 
atmosphere.  Books  on  the  subject  of  mathematics  are 
classed  in  this  group  because  of  the  use  made  of  mathe- 
matics in  solving  the  phenomena  of  nature. 

Examples : 

The  Romance  of  Modern  Electricity.— Charles  R.  Gibson. 
The  Wonder  Book  of  Volcanoes  and  Earthquakes.—Edward 

J.  Houston. 

School  Science  and  Mathematics. — A  monthly  magazine. 
Science  Primers.— A  Series  edited  by  Huxley,  Roscoe,  and 

Stewart. 
Ecce  Coelum.— E.  F.  Burr. 

POLITICAL     SCIENCE    AND    ECONOMICS.— 

Books  classed  as  political  science  treat  of  the  science 
of  national  government,  and  discuss  the  problems  con- 
nected with  the  preservation,  regulation,  defense,  and 
development  of  the  nation.  The  two  divisions  of  the 
subject  of  political  science  are  politics  and  economics; 
politics  is  the  science  of  national  policy,  and  economics 
is  the  science  of  the  acquisition  of  wealth.  The.  books 
classed  under  politics  treat  all  questions  of  national 
policy  in  such  readable  form  that  all  citizens  may  keep 
informed  concerning  administrative  measures ;  some 
of  the  subjects  treated  are  :  the  history  and  principles 
of  political  parties,  civil  service  methods,  colonization, 
foreign  diplomacy.  The  books  classed  under  economics 
treat  the  problems  of  the  business  world,  the  reading 
of  which  will  tend  to  harmonize  the  self-interests  of 
the  individual  with  the  public  needs  of  a  community ; 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  25 

some    of    the   subjects    treated    are:     wages,     tariff, 
monopoly,    competition,     currency,    financial    panics, 
transportation   rates,  insurance,  and  all  the  questions 
involved  in  the  contest  between  labor  and  capital. 
Examples : 

American  Ideals. — Theodore  Roosevelt. 

Straight  Talks  on  Business.— William  Gamble. 

Choosing  a  Career.  —  Orison  Sweet  Harden. 

Imperial  Democracy.— David  Starr  Jordan. 

Annual  Reports  of  the  George  Junior-Republic  Association. 

Unto  This  Last.— John  Ruskin. 

Crown  of  Wild  Olive. — John  Ruskin. 

SOCIOLOGY. — Books  classed  as  sociology  treat 
the  problems  of  social  life,  or  those  problems  involved 
in  men's  treatment  of  each  other.  Sociology  is  defined 
as  the  science  of  social  customs  and  ideals.  All  the 
subjects  of  sociology  might  be  classed  under  the  gen- 
eral title,  Altruism.  Some  of  the  most  vital  questions 
of  the  day  are  those  classed  under  sociology.  These 
questions  are  treated  largely  in  novels,  but  the  books 
in  this  class  are  essays.  A  good  citizen  should  find  in 
the  books  of  this  class  the  important  distinction  be- 
tween socialism  and  those  subjects  often  confused  with 
it — communism,  nihilism,  and  anarchism.  Some  of  the 
subjects  treated  in  this  class  are :  crime  and  its  cor- 
rection, charities,  social  settlements,  child-labor,  race 
questions,  temperance,  equal  suffrage,  pensions,  and 
all  the  various  industrial,  social,  and  religious  organ- 
izations. 

Examples : 

The  Cry  of  the  Children.— Mrs.  John  Van  Vorst. 

The  Future  of  the  American  Negro. — Booker  Washington. 

Waifs  of  the  Slums  and  Their  Way  Out.— Leonard  Benedict 

LAW. — Books  classed  as  law  treat  of  men's  rela- 
tions toward  one  another  from  the  point  of  view  of 


26  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

public  security.  Here  are  discussed  those  rules  of  con- 
duct which  are  founded  on  long  usage  or  on  the 
decisions  of  courts  of  justice.  Besides  the  technical 
books  classed  as  jurisprudence,  there  are  readable 
books  that  show  the  relation  between  statutes  and 
the  conscience  of  the  community.  The  effect  of  read- 
ing in  this  class  is  to  awaken  a  sense  of  justice,  and  to 
lead  one  to  compare  the  principles  of  justice  with  the 
decisions  of  law  courts.  Some  of  the  subjects  treated 
are :  accounts  of  celebrated  cases  in  court,  accounts  of 
arbitration  conferences,  parliamentary  practice  for  club 
meetings,  and  all  questions  involving  property  rights. 
Examples : 

The  Prisoner  at  the  Bar.— A.  0.  Train. 
Extraordinary  Cases. — H.  L.  Clinton. 

MEDICINE.— The  technical  books  in  the  class  of 
medicine  treat  of  anatomy,  physiology,  and  the  treat- 
ment of  disease.  But  there  are  many  books  in  this 
class  besides  those  intended  only  for  the  medical 
profession.  There  are  popular  books  treating  all  the 
problems  of  healthy  living — classed  as  hygiene,  and 
books  about  health  resorts,  hospitals,  the  nursing 
profession,  the  red-cross  society,  the  different  systems 
of  physical  training  used  in  gymnasiums,  and  all  the 
problems  connected  with  pure  food. 

Examples : 

The  Efficient  Life  —Luther  Gulick. 
Health  Lessons.- J.  N.  Hurty,  M.  D. 
Emergency  Notes.— G.  R.  Butler. 

EDUCATION.— The  technical  books  in  the  class 
of  education  treat  of  the  theory  and  practice  of  teach- 
ing, or  pedagogics.  But  there  are  popular  books  giv- 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  27 

ing  information  about  all  the  great  schools,  colleges, 
and  universities,  and  about  special  educational  systems, 
and  books  which  treat  the  subjects  of  co-education, 
courses  of  study,  the  training  of  the  blind  and  the  deaf, 
kindergarten  methods,  manual  training,  normal  train- 
ing, and  books  giving  all  sorts  of  advice  about  self- 
education. 

Examples : 

Education,  and  the  Larger  Life.— C.  Hanford  Henderson 
School,  College,  and  Character.— Le  Baron  Russell  Briggs. 
Educational  Aims  and  Educational  Values. — Paul  H.  Hanus. 

LANGUAGE. — The  technical  books  in  the  class  of 
language  treat  the  origin  and  development  of  the  dif- 
ferent languages  of  the  world,  or  the  science  called 
philology.  The  popular  books  give  all  possible  direc- 
tions and  advice  about  ordinary  usage  of  language  in 
conversation,  about  public  speaking,  and  about  literary 
composition.  In  this  class  are  found  th,e  dictionaries  of 
foreign  languages,  and  systems  by  means  of  which  one 
may  be  self-taught  in  the  modern  languages. 
Examples : 

The  Gentle  Art  of  Good  Talking. —Beatrice  Knollys. 

Every  Day  English. — Richard  Grant  White. 

Words  and  Their  Uses.— Richard  Grant  White. 

The  Worth  of  Words.— Ralcy  Husted  Bell. 

Talks  on  Writing  English.  — Arlo  Bates. 
•    '       Words:   Their  Use  and  Abuse. — Brander  Matthews. 

PHILOSOPHY  AND  OCCULT  SCIENCE.— Philos- 
ophy is  defined  as  a  process  of  reasoning  applied  to 
phenomena  in  order  to  find  causes;  it  is  sometimes 
called  the  science  of  causes  and  effects.  By  derivation 
it  means  the  love  of,  or  search  after,  wisdom.  All 
knowledge  has  been  gained  by  philosophy  and  by 


28  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

experiment.  When  by  reasoning  and  experiment  the 
laws  governing  a  certain  class  of  phenomena  have  been 
discovered  and  formulated,  we  have  a  science.  There- 
fore all  the  sciences  have  had  their  origin  in  philoso- 
phy. It  is  customary  to  speak  of  a  subject  as  a  phi- 
losophy when  the  phenomena  of  the  subject  have  not 
been  sufficiently  observed  to  give  any  conclusions  that 
can  be  laid  down  as  laws.  The  occult  sciences  are 
really  philosophies,  for  observations  of  phenomena  have 
not  been  sufficiently  verified  and  classified  to  make  a 
science.  Subjects  are  called  occult — or,  as  the  word 
means,  hidden — when  the  phenomena  of  the  subject 
are  being  investigated,  but  about  which  little  has  been 
discovered  which  is  universally  accepted  as  conclusive. 
There  have  been  different  systems  or  schools  of 
philosophy,  each  reasoning  from  a  different  point  of 
view.  The  branches  of  philosophy  are:  logie,  or  the 
laws  of  reasoning;  psychology,  or  the  laws  of  mind; 
ethics,  or  the  laws  of  morality ;  aesthetics,  or  the  prin- 
ciples of  taste.  Metaphysics  is  a  general  term  for  the 
science  of  that  kind  of  being  of  which  the  five  physical 
senses  are  not  cognizant.  The  subjects  usually  classed 
as  occult  are  :  certain  psychic  phenomena  such  as  telep- 
athy, hypnotism,  mental-healing,  -and  the  older  sub- 
jects of  astrology,  phrenology,  physiognomy,  palmistry, 
spiritualism.  Popular  books  are  found  in  the  class 
called  ethics,  and  much  attention  is  now  being  given 
to  psychology  in  its  application  to  unexplained  psychic 
phenomena. 
Examples: 

Philosophical  Classics  for  English  Readers.— A  Series  edited 
by  W.  Knight. 

Laws  of  Daily  Conduct.— Nicholas  Paine  Oilman. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  29 

The  Unknown. — Camille  Flammarion. 

Multiple  Personality.  — Sidis  and  Goodhart. 

The  Mystery  of  Sleep.— John  Bigelow. 

Essays  on  the  Meaning  of  Life.— Carl  Helty,  translated  by 

Francis  Peabody. 
In  Tune  With  the  Infinite  -Ralph  Waldo  Trine. 

RELIGION.— The  technical  books  in  this  class, 
classified  as  theology,  treat  the  subject  of  the  nature 
of  God  and  man's  relation  to  God.  Here  also  are  books 
about  the  Bible,  usually  classed  as  Higher  Criticism, 
and  books  about  the  history  of  the  Christian  church, 
its  sects,  and  its  organizations.  The  popular  books  are 
those  which  serve  as  helps  in  Christian  living,  and  in 
forming  religious  opinions.  Books  in  this  class  are  not 
confined  to  the  Christian  religion,  but  there  are  books 
about  the  other  religions  of  the  world,  and  translations 
of  the  sacred  books  of  all  religions.  Mythology  is  also 
found  in  this  class,  for  myths  express  in  story  form  the 
religious  beliefs  of  all  ages.  Mythology  is  subdivided 
into  myths,  legends,  fables,  fairy  tales,  and  folk-lore. 
Examples : 

Pilgrim's  Progress.— John  Bunyan. 

The  Religion  of  a  Gentleman.— Charles  F.  Dole. 

The  Smoke  and  the  Flame.— Charles  F.  Dole. 

The  Life  of  the  Spirit.— Hamilton  Wright  Mabie. 

The  Legends  of  Parsifal.— Mary  Hanford  Ford. 

Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World.— Henry  Drummond. 

The  Greatest  Thing  in  the  World.— Henry  Drummond, 

Influence  of  Christ  in  Modern  Life.  — Newell  D wight  Hillis. 

Sermons. — Phillips  Brooks. 

Ten  Great  Religions. — James  Freeman  Clark. 

Aspirations  of  the  World.— Lydia  Maria  Child. 

Myths  and  Legends  of  Our  Own  Land.— Charles  M.  Skinner. 

GKEEK  AND  KOMAN  CLASSICS.— The    Greek 
and  Roman  classics  are  in  the  form  of  poems,  dramas, 


30  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

orations,  philosophy,  and  history.  They  may  be  found 
in  the  original  and  in  translations.  A  reader  should 
be  careful  to  get  the  best  translation  as  there  is  con- 
siderable difference  among  translators. 

Examples : 

TheOdlLey     I    Homer-    Trans,  by  William  Cullen  Bryant. 
Plutarch's  Lives.— Trans,  by  C.  E.  Byles. 
Select  Orations  of  Cicero.— Trans,  by  C.  D.  Yonge. 
Antigone. — Sophocles.    Trans,  by  John  S.  Phillimore. 
Agamemnon. — ^Eschylus.     Trans,  by  John  S.  Phillimore. 
The  Prometheus  Bound  of  ^Eschylus — Paul  Elmer  More. 
The  Trial  and  Death  of  Socrates.-  Plato's  Dialogues.    Trans, 
by  F.  J.  Church. 

POLYGRAPH Y.— In  the  class  called  polygraphy— 
the  word  meaning  writings  of  many  kinds — are  found 
complete  editions  or  collected  works  of  authors,  besides 
collections  of  many  kinds,  especially  collections  of 
speeches  and  orations.  Books  which  cannot  be  exactly 
classified  under  any  of  the  other  classes  are  found 
here. 

Examples : 

The  Poems  and  Prose  Sketches  of  James  Whitcomb  Riley. 
The  Complete  Works  of  John*Ruskin.[;.  Edition  de  Luxe. 

CONCLUSION.— The  foregoing  description  of  the 
different  classes  of  books  gives  but  an  imperfect  idea 
of  what  there  is  to  be  enjoyed  in  each  of  these  classes ; 
the  object  has  been  only  to  arouse  curiosity.  The  pur- 
pose of  such  a  cursory  view  of  the  reader's  field  is  to 
get  some  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  field,  and  to  become 
persuaded  that,  since  the  number  of  classes  is  com- 
paratively small,  it  is  not  an  impossible  task  for  a 
reader  to  be  fairly  intelligent  concerning  the  whole 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  31 

field  of  knowledge.  The  finding-lists  found  at  the 
public  library  serve  the  reader  as  a  map  of  the  whole 
field.  Having  once  become  familiar  with  the  main 
features  of  the  field  as  laid  out  to  the  eye  in  these 
finding-lists,  the  reader  needs  only  to  watch  the  new 
supplements  as  they  come  out  in  order  to  keep  his  in- 
terest fresh  in  the  subject-matter  of  these  several 
classes.  A  very  little  reading,  if  well-balanced,  will 
save  a  reader  from  falling  into  the  provinciality  which 
comes  from  confining  one's  reading  to  some  one  part  of 
the  whole  field. 

The  examples  given  are,  with  but  few  exceptions, 
purposely  selected  from  contemporary  literature,  and 
are  the  books  which  young  people  will  like,  and  which, 
therefore,  will  agreeably  lead  them  into  the  company 
of  the  masterpieces  of  each  class  with  which  they 
should  later  become  acquainted. 


32 


THE  READER'S  BASIS 
II. 

LITERAKY   FORMS 


Narration 


HISTORY 


PROSE 


Chronicle — The  Hebrew  Chronicles. 

Narrative  History — The  Story  of  the 
Nations.  (A  Series) 

Philosophic  History — The  Critical  Pe- 
riod of  American  History, ^by  John 
Fiske. 

Scenic  History — The  French  Revolu- 
tion, by  Carlyle. 


/  Complete  History — Lockhart's  Walter 

Scott. 
Biographical  Essay — Essay  on  Burns, 

by  Carlyle. 
Memoir — Alfred  Tennyson,  by  his  son. 

Autobiography  —  Praeterita,  by  John 
BIOGRAPHY  /      Ruskin. 

Journal — Maurice   de    Guerin,    trans. 

by  Frothingham. 
Letters — Lowell's  Letters. 
Biographical    Tales    and     Sketches — 
Folk!  Tales';  of  [Napoleon,  by   George 

Kennan. 


FICTION 


Description 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  33 

The  Novel— The  Right  of   Way,    by 

Gilbert  Parker. 
The    Romance — Ivanhoe,    by  Walter 

Scott. 
The   Short-Story — Marjorie   Daw,    by 

T.  B.  Aldrich. 

Tales — Jungle  Books,  by  Kipling. 
The  Allegory— The  King  of  the  Golden 
River,  by  Ruskin. 
Fable— Indian  Fables,  by   P.  V. 

R.  Roja. 
Myth — The   Great  Carbuncle,  by 

Hawthorne. 
Parable — Parables    of     Life,    by 

Mabie. 
Fairy  Tale— The  Ugly  Duckling, 

by  Hans  Anderson. 
Prose  Drama — I/Aiglon,  by&Edmond 
Rostand. 

Farce — The   Unexpected   Guests, 

by  Howells. 
Dialogue — The   Dolly   Dialogues, 

by  Anthony  Hope. 
Monologue — Mrs.    Caudle's    Cur- 
.  tain  Lectures,  by  Douglas  Jer- 
rold. 


Nature    Studies — Walden,  by  Tho- 
of     Places,     by 


reau. 

Travels— Portraits 
Henry  James. 


34  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

Descriptions  in  Stories : 
Placejs — The  Hall  Farm,  in  Adam 

Bede,  by  Eliot. 

Persons — Dinah  Morris,  in  Adam 
Bede,  by  Eliot. 


Exposition 


Argumentation 


The  Treatise — Monographs  in  Politi- 
cal and  Historical  Science. — Johns 
Hopkins  University  Studies. 

The  Essay — Virginibus  Puerisque, 
by  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

Editorials — From  the  Easy  Chair,  by 
G.  W.  Curtis. 

Sermons — Sermons  to  Young  Men,  by 
Henry  Van  Dyke. 

Book  Reviews — John  Ruskin,  by 
Alice  Meynell. 


Forensic  (delivered  in  courts  of  law)— 
Exordium  in  the  Knapp  Murder 
Case,  by  Daniel  Webster(in  series, 
World's  Best  Orations,  Vol.  X.) 

Deliberative  (delivered  in  legisla- 
tive assemblies)  —  Conciliation 
with  America,  by  Burke,. 

Demonstrative  (public  addresses) — 
Sesame  of  Kings'  Treasuries,  by 
John  Ruskin. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  35 

POETRY 
Lyric 

Ode — Commemoration       Ode,       by 

Lowell. 
Elegy  or  Threnody — In  Memoriam, 

by  Tennyson. 
Sonnet — Sonnet     on     Sonnets,     by 

Wordsworth. 
Sacred  Lyric — Eternal  Goodness,  by 

Whittle*. 
Patriotic   Lyric — The  Battle   Hymn 

of  the   Republic,   by  Julia  Ward 

Howe. 
Love  Lyric — John  Anderson,  My  Jo, 

by  Robert  Burns. 

Nature  Lyric — The  Cloud,  by  Shelley. 
Reflective  Lyric — Tinturn  Abbey,  by 

Wordsworth. 

Grief  Lyric — Annabel  Lee,  by  Poe. 
Convivial  Lyric — Hands  All  Round, 

by  Tennyson. 
Epic 

Grand     Epic — Paradise     Lost,      by 

Milton. 
Legendary  Epic — Idylls  of  the  King, 

by  Tennyson. 
Mock  Epic — Rape  of   the   Lock,  by 

Pope. 
Metrical     Romance — Lady    of     the 

Lake,  by  Scott. 

Metrical  Tale — Evangeline,  by  Long- 
fellow. 


36 


Descriptive 


Dramatic 


THE  READER'S  BASIS 

Ballad — Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  by 
Macaulay. 

Idyll  or  Pastoral — Cotter's  Saturday 
Night,  by  Burns. 

Allegory  and  Symbolism — The  Vis- 
ion of  Sir  Launfal,  by  Lowell. 

The  Deserted  Village,  by  Gold- 
smith. 

Tragedy — Macbeth,  by  Shakespeare. 
Comedy — As  You  Like  It,  by  Shakes- 
peare . 

Mask — Comus,  by  Milton. 
Morality  Play — Everyman. 

ORATORY 

The  March  of  the  Flag,  by  Albert  J. 
Beveridge  (in  series,  Modern  Elo- 
quence, Vol.  XI.) 


Prose,  Poetry,  Oralory. — A  good  reader  never 
expresses  himself  as  preferring  either  one  of  these 
grand  divisions  of  literature  to  any  other,  for  each 
gives  expression  to  a  different  side  of  human  nature, 
and  all  three  of  these  literary  forms  are  required  to 
express  the  whole  nature  of  man.  Prose  expresses  the 
intellect;  poetry,  the  passions;  oratory,  the  will.  Of 
course,  each  expresses  all  three  to  some  extent,  since 
these  three  elements  of  human  nature  are  never  en- 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  37 

tirely  separated;  but  one  or  the  other  element  may, 
for  the  time,  predominate  sufficiently  to  class  the 
literature  which  expresses  it  under/' one  rather  than 
another  of  these  forms. 

While  it  is  true  that  the  foregoing  distinction  is 
the  true  basis  of  classification,  there  is  a  more  formal 
or  evident  means  of  distinction — namely,  the  form 
which  the  language  takes.  Prose  takes  the  form  of 
ordinary  conversation.  Poetry  is  a  measured  or  met- 
rical language,  called  verse,  a  word  derived  from 
versus,  a  turning,  because  when  the  succession  of 
words  reaches  a  certain  measured  length,  the  line  turns 
back  and  begins  the  measure  over  again.  The  prose 
line  goes  straight  forward,  and  so  prose  is  called 
straght-forward  discourse.  The  language  of  oratory  is 
rhythmical  without  being  confined  to  regular  measure. 

However,  each  form  of  language  is  but  the  natural 
expression  of  the  three  phases  of  human  nature — intel- 
lect, passion,  and  will.  The  intellect  expresses  itself 
calmly,  the  language  naturally  moving  straight  on,  from 
point  to  point,  to  a  definite  end,  direct  progress  towards 
an  end  being  the  natural  course  which  the  intellect 
takes.  On  the  other  hand,  the  passions  naturally  swing 
back  and  forth  in  rhythmic  motion,  the  accompanying 
language,  therefore,  giving  the  swinging  effect  of  a 
tune,  or  even  of  a  dance.  A  sense  of  sound-effects,  as 
well  as  a  sense  of  motion,  accompanies  the  expression 
of  emotion,  a  regular  recurrence  of  some  sound  as  well  as 
of  some  beat  making  a  rhyme  scheme  and  a  time  scheme 
which  is  the  distinctive  feature  of  the  language  of 
poetry.  Further,  the  will  expresses  itself  with  the 
restraint  of  intellect  and  yet  with  the  motion  of  pas- 


38  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

sion ;  and  so,  the  language  of  oratory,  called  eloquence, 
has  a  noticeable  rhythmic  swing,  though  not  quite  so 
regular  as  that  of  poetry,  and  at  the  same  time  it  has 
the  appearance  of  the  prose  form. 

The  difference  between  these  three  fundamental 
forms  of  literature  is  not  a  difference  of  subject,  but  a 
difference  in  form  of  expression — a  difference  which 
shows  not  only  in  the  form  of  the  line,  but  also  in  sen- 
tence structure,  in  vocabulary,  and  in  the  divisions  of 
the  material,  called  paragraphs  in  prose,  and  stanzas  or 
strophes  in  verse. 

Everyone  is  of  course  interested  in  human  nature 
as  a  whole;  and,  therefore,  when  a  reader  understands 
that  the  three  fundamental  literary  forms  are  the 
natural  expression  of  the  three  fundamental  elements 
in  human  nature,  he  will  be  equally  interested  in  all 
three  literary  forms. 


Narration. — Narration  is  that  form  of  prose  which 
seems  most  natural,  and  includes  the  greater  part  of 
the  whole  body  of  literature.  The  object  of  narration 
is  to  set  forth  a  succession  of  events  in  such  a  way  that 
the  reader  feels  himself  a  participator  in  these  events. 
The  reader  judges  the  merit  of  narration  by  the  degree 
to  which  he  loses  a  sense  of  his  own  personality  and 
environment,  and  lives  in  the  action  that  he  is  reading 
about,  seeing  and  feeling  the  action  as  if  it  were  going 
on  before  his  eyes.  There  are  means  by  which  a  narra- 
tor can  produce  this  effect,  and  these  are  called  the 
principles  of  narration. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  39 

Principles  of  Narration: — 

1.  The  fundamental  principle  of  narration  is  that 
the  action  must  move  swiftly.     The^quick  succession  of 
scenes  and  events  must  leave  no  chance  for  the  reader's 
interest  to  lag.     Therefore  the  problem  for  the  narrator 
is  the  choice  of   detail.     The  skillful  narrator  knows 
what  details  are  significant,  and  uses  no  others.     The 
significant  detail  is  the  one  which  makes  the  narration 
move  forward,  and  without  which  some  link  would  be 
lost  in  the  chain  of  events.     Exclusion  of  unnecessary 
detail  is  the  first  essential  of  successful  narration.    The 
reader  judges  a   narrative  by  his  ever  increasing  in- 
terest which  is  nowhere  interrupted,  and  by  his  feeling 
that  he  is  not  missing  anything  necessary  to  under- 
standing,   or   by    his   feeling   of    impatience   towards 
some  details  which  seem  to  stand  in  the  way  of   his 
progress. 

2.  The  second  principle  is  that  events  must  move 
in  the  natural  order  of  time,  or  what  is  called  chrono- 
logical order,  or  else  events  must  be  arranged  to  show 
the  operation  of  cause  and  effect.     If  events  move  in 
chronological  order,  the  narrative  is  said  to  have  no 
plot.     A  narrative  is  said  to  have  plot  if  the  reader 
feels  the  cause"  and  effect  relation  of  all  the  events. 
In  a  good  plot,  a  number  of  minor  causes  and  effects 
combine  as  the  cause  of  a  final, total  effect  which  is  called 
the   climax.     This  involves    a   nice    balance   of    fore- 
shadowing and  surprise,  up  to  the  denouement,  which 
should  not  be  wholly  unprepared  for,  but  about  which 
there  should  be  enough  doubt  to  make  the  denouement 
exciting.     The  element  of  plot  is  what  distinguishes 
narration  of  a  high  order  from  that  of  inferior  rank. 


40  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

3.  Next  in  importance  is  the  principle  that  the 
progress  of  the  action  must  be  in  stages,  so  that  the 
reader  can  keep  tragk  of  the  progress.  Some  scenes, 
situations,  or  events  make  natural  landmarks  in  the 
progress  of  the  narrative.  To  recognize  what  these 
landmarks  are,  and  then  bring  them  out  in  high  relief, 
is  an  important  element  of  a  narrator's  success.  The 
effort  to  do  this  is  what  determines  the  divisions  or 
chapters.  A  large  part  of  the  narrator's  art  consists  in 
letting  the  reader  stop  at  the  right  places,  and  in 
keeping  the  story  well-balanced — that  is,  not  letting 
one  part  get  ahead  of  another  part. 

4.  The  fourth  principle  is  that  narration  must 
have  some  unifying  element.  The  chronological  narra- 
tive has  no  unifying  element  except  time,  and  is  there- 
fore elementary  composition.  The  anecdote  has  for  its 
unifying  element  the  single  point  for  which  the  story 
is  told.  A  narrative  of  high  order  also  is  unified  by  the 
single  point  for  which  the  story  is  told ;  this  point, 
however,  is  so  obscured  by  many  details  that  it  does 
not  stand  out  conspicuously  as  it  does  in  the  anecdote, 
but  is  suggested  to  the  reader  by  the  movement  of 
events  and  the  climax.  This  point  is  called  the  theme. 
A  narrative  is  said  to  have  a  theme  when  the  final 
effect  upon  the  reader  of  having  read  the  narrative  is 
that  some  one  point,  or  sentiment,  or  truth,  stands  out 
clearly  proved  by  the  logic  of  events;  in  fact,  the 
narrative  seems  to  have  been  told  for  the  purpose  of 
making  this  truth  apparent.  In  other  words,  some 
lesson  or  truth  must  survive  in  the  reader's  mind  after 
the  details  of  the  events  have  passed  from  the  reader's 
memory.  Thus,  a  narrative  of  high  order  will  add  to  a 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  41 

reader's  wisdom,  or  his  understanding  of  the  meaning 
of  events.  Of  course,  this  moral  purpose  must  not  be 
obtrusive.  The  reader  must  feel  that  he  himself  has 
drawn  the  conclusion  from  his  own  sense  of  the  mean- 
ing of  the  events.  The  central  truth,  or  theme,  is 
usually  embodied  in  the  principal  charcter.  If  no  lead- 
ing character  unifies  the  narrative,  then  the  situation 
which  is  the  climax  will  so  embody  a  truth  which  has 
been  all  the  time  more  and  more  plainly  suggested, 
that  the  climax  makes  the  required  unity. 

5.  The  fifth  principle  is  that  events  shall  be  made 
to  grow  out  of  the  characters  of  the  human  participa- 
tors in  the  action.     Of  course,  a  narrative  must  involve 
the  fortunes  of  some  one  individual,  or  of  several  indi- 
viduals, and  it  is  the  play  of  human  nature  as  the  causes 
of  the  events  which  happen  that  makes  a  narrative  have 
human  interest.  Whether  the  narrative  be  fact  or  fiction, 
the  characters  participating  in  the  action  must  act  out 
what  is  recognized  as  common  human  nature,  or  else  the 
narrative  will  not  have  universal  interest.     The  test  for 
the  characters  in  a  narrative  is  that  they  are  so  true  to 
life  and  common  human  nature  that  they  seem  alive,  and 
that  the  reader  is  made  so  well  acquainted  with  the 
characters,  by  many  descriptive  details  and  dialogue, 
that  he  sees  the  events  as  the  inevitable  outcome  of 
human  nature. 

6.  The    final  principle  oi   narration   is    that  the 
place,  or  places,  where  the  action  occurs  be  so  repro- 
duced to  the  senses  of  the  reader  by  vivid  description 
that  the  reader  sees  the  events  occur  in  their  proper 
environment  and  atmosphere.     The  reader   must   see 
the  whole  action  as  if  he  were  present,  and  he  cannot 


42  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

do  this  without  the  accompanying  scene.  Perhaps  the 
most  delicate  art  of  the  narrative  lies  in  reproducing, 
not  only  the  scenery  and  objects  that  compose  the  en- 
vironment of  an  action,  but  also  the  very  atmosphere 
of  the  period  and  locality  in  which  the  action 
occurs. 

These  six  principles  of  narration  apply  equally  to 
history,  biography,  and  fiction,  and  may  be  used  by 
the  reader  as  tests  of  the  excellence  of  either  of  these 
three  literary  forms. 

Besides  these  principles,  the  reader  needs  some 
basis  for  judging  the  merit  of  the  literary  forms  which 
are  the  subdivisions  of  narration. 

History,  Biography,  Fiction.  —  The  modern 
reader  will  find  that  there  is  not  so  sharp  a  distinction 
between  these  literary  forms  as  has  generally  been 
supposed.  The  distinction  which  is  usually  accepted 
is  the  distinction  of  fact  and  fiction.  It  is  true  that 
history  and  biography  are  narration  of  actual  occur- 
rences, and  that  fiction  is  the  narration  of  fictitious 
occurrences;  but  the  reader  soon  finds  that  everything 
found  in  history  and  biography  is  not  fact,  and  that 
the  impression  of  human  life  gained  from  fiction  is 
generally  true.  The  historian,  biographer,  and  writer 
of  fiction  all  aim  to  tell  the  truth :  the  historian  or 
biographer  by  recounting  the  events  which,  accord- 
ing to  such  evidence  as  he  can  find,  have  actually 
occurred;  the  writer  of  fiction  by  recounting  events 
which,  according  to  his  observation  of  life,  might 
occur.  As  the  historian  and  biographer  may  be  mis- 
taken in  their  evidence,  because  of  insufficient  investi- 
gation, so  the  writer  of  fiction  may  be  mistaken  in  his 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  43 

observation  of  life,  because  of  narrow  experience,  and 
so  either  kind  of  writer  may  fall  short  of  the  truth. 
All  three  literary  forms  require  both  accuracy  of  in- 
vestigation; and*  powerfullimagination.  The  historian 
must  not  only  secure  facts  which  he  believes  to  be 
authentic,  but  in  his  imagination  he  must  so  clearJy 
see  the  relation  of  these  facts  to  each  other  that  he 
can  create  a  sequence  and  unity  of  events  which  truth- 
fully reproduces  or  restores  the  past  to  the  reader, 
allowing  of  no  misconception,  and  making  the  signifi- 
cance of  events  become  evident.  The  writer  of  high- 
class  fiction  creates  his  scenes,  but  not  wholly  in  his 
imagination;  he  is  just  as  thorough  as  the  historian  in 
his  investigations,  just  as  careful  to  verify  his  impres- 
sions, and  no  bolder  in  imagination.  Fiction  creates; 
history  and  biography  re-create.  Each  literary  form  may 
be  either  with  or  without  plot,  according  as  it  is  ranked 
as  literature^or  not  literature.  The  main  distinction 
between  the  three  forms  is  the  purpose  with  which  the 
writer  of  each  form  does  his,  work.t  The*  purpose  of 
the  historian  and  the  biographer  is  to  make  the  real  take 
on  greater  interest;  the  purpose  of  the  fiction- writer 
is  to  make  the  unreal  seem  real.  The  tests  for  either 
form  are  truth,  interest,  consistency. 


HISTORY.— The  reader  of  history  must  learn  to 
distinguish  between  the  modern,  scientific  history,  and 
those  great  works  of  literature  styled  histories,  which 
will  always  be  read,  but  which  will  be  read  as  litera- 
ture rather  than  for  accuracy  of  information.  Old 
writers  of  history  had  other  objects  in  view  than 


44  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

merely  to  tell  how  things  happened ;  they  had  some 
political  or  religious  aim,  some  interest  to  be  pro- 
moted. They  were  concerned  not  so  much  with  dis- 
covery of  facts  as  with  the  proof  of  their  own  theories. 
They  used  the  generally  accepted  data  without  investi- 
gation, and  drew  conclusions  which  suited  their  own 
purposes.  Before  accepting  what  an  old  historian  says, 
the  reader  needs  to  learn  the  writer's  nationality, 
religion,  and  politics.  The  modern  scientific  school  of 
history  has  made  the  documents  of  the  past  so  much 
more  accessible  now  than  formerly  that  history 
written  before  the  nineteenth  century,  with  one  or 
two  exceptions,  is  found  to  be  inaccurate,  and  should 
be  read  only  as  masterpieces  of  literary  style.  Some 
modern  books  which  are  styled  history,  are  really 
essays,  and  should  be  classed  as  exposition,  for  they 
are  written  to  express  the  personal  opinions  of  the 
writer.  There  is  nothing  of  the  writer's  person- 
ality in  scientific  history.  No  one  judges  history  any 
more  by  its  literary  style  and  great  ideas,  but  by 
the  truthfulness  with  which  the  past  is  reproduced. 
Interesting  and  brilliant  but  inaccurate  historical 
works,  and  those  which  give  a  personal  point  of  view, 
are  now  spoken  of  as  literature  rather  than  as  history. 

1.  THE  CHRONICLE  is  the  earliest  and  crudest  form 
of  history.     It  is  the  bare  record  of  events  in  just  the 
order  in  which  they  occurred. 

2.  NARRATIVE   HISTORY   is  narration  without  any 
more   plot    than   is    necessary   to    make    a    readable 
story. 

3.  PHILOSOPHIC  HISTORY  is  more  than  a  narration  of 
events;    it   is   a  comment  on  events.     It  is  narration 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  45 

with  plot,  all  the  incidents  arranged  to  show  the  rela- 
tion of  cause  and  effect,  all  tending  towards  a  denoue- 
ment which  is  of  absorbing  interest.  This  kind  of 
history  so  clearly  shows  the  great  originating  forces 
in  a  chain  of  events,  and  so  exhibits  moral  conse- 
quences, that  the  writer  has  been  said  to  have  l 'pene- 
trated into  the  intimacy  of  the  counsels  of  Providence, 
and  produced  a  sort  of  Bible." 

4.  SCENIC  HISTORY  is  the  kind  which  "proceeds 
upon  principles  of  selection,  presupposing  in  the  reader 
a  general  knowledge  of  the  great,  cardinal  incidents, 
and  bringing  forward  into  especial  notice  those  only 
which  are  susceptible  of  being  treated  with  distin- 
guished effect/' — De  Quincey.  This  kind  of  history, 
in  which  description  is  as  much  used  as  narration, 
makes  a  panorama  ,of  events,  dividing  a  period  into 
separate  scenes,  and  producing  the  effect  of  a  drama. 
It  leaves  much  for  the  reader's  previous  knowledge  to 
supply,  but  it  is  the  most  thrilling  form  of  history. 


BIOGRAPHY  is  so  associated  with  history  that  in 
the  best  books  the  two  are  combined  in  such  a  way  that 
it  is  impossible  to  class  a  book  as  distinctly  one  or  the 
other.  A  good  biography  will  have  for  a  background 
the  history  of  the  period  in  which  the  subject  lived, 
and  will  have  a  plot  which  shows  how  character  and 
achievement  evolve  out  of  environment,  circumstances, 
and  heredity. 

1.  COMPLETE  HISTORY  is  useful  for  reference,  and 
its  chief  merit  is  accuracy  of  fact.  The  objection  to 


46  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

this  form  is  that  it  is  apt  to  be  gossipy,  and  does  not 
create  in  the  reader's  mind  a  well-defined  figure  of  the 
whole  man.  Wrong  impressions  of  the  subject  are 
often  carried  away  by  readers  of  this  form  of  biography, 
since  the  reader's  mind  is  apt  to  fix  upon  minor  details, 
there  being  so  many  details  that  it  is  difficult  to 
realize  the  man  as  a  whole. 

2.  BIOGRAPHICAL  ESSAY  is  the  best  form  in  which 
to  read  biography,  for  the  writer  creates  for  the  reader, 
out  of  a  mass  of  facts,  a  whole  man,  and  comments 
upon  him  as  he  exhibits  him.  To  be  sure,  the  reader 
gets  the  author's  personal  estimate  of  the  man,  which 
may  differ  from  the  estimate  of  the  next  biographer, 
but  it  is  usually  a  better  estimate  than  a  reader  can 
create  for  himself  out  of  a  mass  of  unrelated  facts. 
The  essay  also  has  the  merit  of  being  short,  and  there- 
fore leaves  a  distinct  impression. 

8.  MEMOIRS  are  personal  memories  of  the  author, 
and  therefore  interesting  and  reliable.  They  are  writ- 
ten in  a  light,  familiar  style,  and  have  the  air  of  in- 
timacy which  makes  them  popular. 

4.  AUTOBIOGRAPHY,  or  self-biography,  is  good  read- 
ing, but  does  not  usually  give  a  whole  view.     Perhaps 
the  best  way  to  understand  a  man  is  to  let  him  reveal 
himself  by  the  way  he  tells  his  own  story,  even  though 
some  points  of  his.  life  are  missed.     Some  autobiogra- 
phies are  written  in  journal  form. 

5.  JOURNALS,  LETTERS,  represent  the  modern  ten- 
dency to  employ  every  means  for  making  a  subject  tell 
his  own  story.     The  objection  to  this  form  of   biogra- 
phy is  that  the  reader  is  burdened  with  much  that  is  of 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  47 

small  interest,  or  else  the  selections  made  by  the 
editor  give  too  much  opportunity  for  misrepresenting 
the  subject.  Moreover,  it  is  hardly  fair  to  judge  a  man 
by  expressions  of  himself  that  he  intended  to  be 
private.  The  value  of  this  form  of  biography  is 
probably  over-estimated  as  a  means  for  getting  an  all- 
around  view  of  a  man.  It  should  be  read  as  supple- 
mentary to  a  wider  view  obtained  from  other  forms  of 
biography. 

6.     BIOGRAPHICAL  TALES  AND  SKETCHES  are  narration 
without  plot,  not  ranking  as  literature. 


FICTION. — Fiction  is  invented  narrative ;  but 
since  it  purports  to  be  a  representation  of  life,  it  must 
be  truthful  to  life  as  seen  by  the  average  observer. 
The  writer  of  fiction  constructs  such  a  story  as  will 
embody  his  own  conception  of  some  phase  of  human 
life — a  conception  founded  upon  his  own  observation 
and  experience  of  real  life.  Fiction  deals  with  things 
that  do  happen  and  that  might  happen.  In  a  sense, 
then,  fiction  is  true.  It  is  true  in  the  degree  that  the 
writer  gets  the  true  meanings  out  of  the  events  which 
he  himself  has  observed  in  real  life,  and  therefore 
understands  life  so  well  that  he  can  construct  a  story 
that  will,  truthfully  represent  real  life.  The  writer  of 
fiction  thus  becomes  an  interpreter  of  life;  he  is  a 
teacher  of  human  motives,  and  of  the  causes  which  lead 
to  results  in  the  complications  of  social  life.  It  is 
because  fiction  serves  this  purpose,  rather  than  because 
it  interests  the  reader  and  temporarily  absorbs  his 


48  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

attention,  that  it  holds  high  rank  as  literary  art.  The 
estimation  in  which  a  reader  holds  fiction  depends  upon 
whether  he  regards  it  as  a  valuable  interpretation  of 
life,  or  as  merely  a  recreation  for  leisure  hours.  The 
unintelligent  reader  uses  fiction-reading  as  form  of 
dissipation  ;  but  the  reader  who  is  trying  to  understand 
human  life,  uses  fiction  as  his  guide  and  teacher. 

1.  THE  NOVEL  deals  with  everyday  life,  or  life  as 
it  is  known  to  the  majority  of  human  beings.     It  is  the 
mirror  of  life,  or  an  attempt  to  show  life  as  it  is.     It  is 
therefore  known  as  realism.     This  is  the  most  modern 
form  of  fiction.     It  portrays  the  complexity  of  modern 
life,  and  the    intricate  workings   of   human   motives. 
Modern  fiction  is  mainly  psychological :  its  purpose  is 
to  analyze  character ;    its  interest  does  not  depend  so 
much  on  incident  as  on  the  play  of  different  characters 
upon  each  other.     Since  it  is  the  object  of  this  form  of 
fiction  to  set  forth  life   as  it  is,  much  discussion  has 
arisen  as  to  what  phases  of  life  it  is  worth  while  to  por- 
tray, and  whether  there  should  or  should  not  be  limits 
put  upon  the  phases  of  life  which  literature  may  ex- 
pose.    In  his  choice  of  a  novel,  the  reader  is  guided  by 
the  particular  phase  of  life  which  the  novel  portrays. 

2.  THE    KOMANCE    deals    with  the    unusual,  with 
adventure,    mystery,  and    surprising    incidents.     The 
romance  deals  with  a  somewhat  primitive  form  of  life — 
with  the  few  elementary  human  passions  rather  than 
with  complex  motives.     It  depends  largely  upon  inci- 
dent for  interest,   and    it   idealizes  human  character. 
The  purpose  of   romance  is  not  to  present  life  as  it  is, 
but  as  we  fancy  it  to  be,  or  as  we  desire  it  to  be.     It  is 
therefore   ealled  idealism.     Such   fiction  has  been  the 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  49 

source  of  what  is  called  the  ideal  in  life,  and  has  fur- 
nished ideals  of  conduct;  it  is  therefore  called 
romantic.  The  novel  is  more  modern  than  the  romance 
in  that  it  follows  the  scientific  spirit  of  investigating 
what  is,  rather  than  fancying  what  might  be  or  should 
be.  The  reader  needs  both  forms  of  fiction,  in  order 
to  balance  two  natural  tendencies  of  the  human  mind. 

3,  THE  .SHORT-STORY  differs  from  the  novel  or 
romance  not  so  much  in  length  as  in  unity  of  impres- 
sion. The  theory  of  the  short-story  is  entirely  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  novel.  The  theory  is  that  the 
events  of  a  few  minutes,  or  a  single  situation,  may  be 
set  forth  in  such  a  way  that  the  reader  shall  get  a 
knowledge  of  occurrences  that  may  have  extended 
over  years.  The  treatment  of  one  situation  is  made  to 
reveal  something  of  the  past  and  of  the  future.  Its 
merit,  then,  consists  in  its  suggestiveness.  The  advan- 
tage of  this  form  is  that  the  reader  can  estimate  human 
character  in  the  same  way  as  he  does  in  real  life ; 
namely,  by  what  happens  at  some  one  crisis.  The 
short-story  gives  what  would  be  the  climax  of  a  novel, 
and  ingeniously  suggests  what  led  up  to  it  and  what 
may  follow.  The  amplified  anecdote  is  altogether  dif- 
ferent from  the  short-story.  The  anecdote  narrates  an 
incident  which  is  a  detached  event,  independent  of 
any  long  series  of  events.  It  does  not^  suggest  any 
more  than  it  tells.  However  much  the  point  of  the 
anecdote  may  be  delayed  by  amplifying  details,  there  is 
an  impression  of  a  single,  detached  event.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  short- story  is  the  account  of  an  event 
from  which  the  reader  looks  backward  and  forward 
over  a  long  series  of  related  events. 


50  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

4.  TALES  are  narratives  without  plot.     The  story 
leads  to  no  denouement,  but  is  bounded  only  by  some 
lapse  of  time,  such  as  the  end  of  a  day,  of  a  journey, 
or  of  an  adventure  of  some  kind.     Such  narratives  are 
largely  descriptive,  and  are  as  often  called  descriptions 
as  narratives. 

5.  THE  ALLEGORY  is  a  truth  or  lesson  embodied  in 
a  narrative.     It   is  amp]ied  metaphor.     By  means  of 
certain  events  and  characters,  the  reader  is  made  to 
think  of  something  else  which  these  events  and  char- 
acters typify.     The  story  illustrates  some  truth  which 
the  reader  is  left  to  infer.     The  characters  in  the  story 
are  not  individuals,  but  are  personifications  of  certain 
motives  or  human  characteristics. 

Fable  is  the  general  name  for  a  fictitious 
narrative  intended  to  enforce  a  moral. 

Myth  is  afabulous  narrative  about  the  action 
of  gods,  divinities,  and  heroes,  involving  super- 
human or  supernatural  incident,  which  con- 
veys a  great,  universal  truth,  of  a  religious 
nature.  The  myth  has  a  meaning  other  than 
that  which  it  at  first  appears  to  have,  the  very 
improbability  of  the  events  indicating  the 
symbolic  nature  of  the  events  described.  The 
myth  is  the  vehicle  by  means  of  which  the 
ancients  gave  concrete  expression  to  their  con- 
ception of  the  spiritual. 

Parable  differs  from  myth  in  the  use  of 
the  ordinary  objects  and  events  of  every- 
day life  with  which  to  enforce  the  moral. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  51 

Apologue  differs  from  parable  in  the  use 
of  the  speech  and  action  of  animals  and  inani- 
mate things  to  enforce  the  moral. 

Fairy  Tale  differs  from  myth  only  in  the  im- 
portance of  the  truth  conveyed,  and  the  dig- 
nity of  the  characters.  Instead  of  the  universal 
truths  which  myths  perpetuate,  the  fairy 
tale  perpetuates  superstitions  concerning  the 
meddling  of  minor  supernatural  agencies,  for 
both  good  and  evil,  in  the  affairs  of  men. 

6.  PROSE  DRAMA  differs  from  the  novel  and  the 
romance  in  being  more  compact,  in  using  only  such 
action  as  can  be  displayed  on  a  stage,  and  in  telling 
the  story  entirely  by  the  speech  and  action  of  the 
characters,  the  story  falling  into  a  few  separate  scenes. 
The  ideal  of  the  drama  is  to  have  the  fewest  scenes 
which,  with  the  least  amount  of  explanation  and  con- 
nection, will  carry  the  story.  The  drama,  like  the 
novel,  may  be  realism ;  or,  like  the  romance,  it  may  be 
idealism.  The  melodrama  corresponds  with  the  sensa- 
tional story  in  depending  upon  the  startling  for  inter- 
est, and  in  giving  unnatural  and  exaggerated  views  of 
life. 

Farce  exists  frankly  to  furnish  amuse- 
ment, and  has  no  higher  purpose.  It  there- 
fore presents  those  situations  which  are  merely 
ludicrous  and  which  have  no  moral  signifi- 
cance. 

Dialogue  and  monologue  are  forms  of  con- 
versation between  two  or  more  persons  who 
are  present,  or  with  some  imaginary  person 


52  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

not  present.  These  forms  are  dramatic  in 
effect  because  the  idea  is  conveyed  wholly  by 
speeches;  but  they  may  be  classed  either  as 
narration  or  as  exposition,  according  to  whether 
the  writer's  purpose  is  to  tell  an  incident  or 
to  set  forth  an  opinion. 


Description  — Description  can  hardly  be  called 
an  independent  literary  form.  It  is  used  in  combina- 
tion with  other  forms;  indeed,  no  literary  form  is 
effective  without  the  introduction  of  some  description. 
The  purpose  of  description  is  to  create  pictures  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader.  Such  a  purpose  is  not  sufficient 
in  itself  to  create  an  independent  form  ;  pictures  are 
created  in  the  mind  only  that  some  larger  purpose  may 
be  carried  out.  In  narration,  description  supplies  all 
that  the  eye  might  see,  and  so  makes  the  reader  see 
the  events  as  if  they  were  occurring  before  the  eyes. 
In  exposition,  description  is  used  to  illustrate  the 
opinion  that  is  set  forth,  by  picturing  some  concrete 
instance.  In  argumentation,  description  is  used  to 
arouse  the  emotion,  and  thus  assist  the  writer  to  con- 
vince the  reader.  In  poetry,  it  is  used  for  esthetic 
enjoyment,  and  for  suggestion  of  some  truth.  These 
purposes  of  description  determine  the  principles  which 
govern  this  literary  form,  and  by  which  the  reader 
makes  his  tests. 

Principles  of  Description: — 

1.  The  first  principle  of  description  is  that  a  clear 
picture  be  presented  to  the  eye.  In  order  to  make  a 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  53 

clear  picture,  (1)  the  details  must  be  of  such  a  number, 
and  given  in  such  order,  that  the  mind  can  grasp  them 
all  at  once,  so  as  to  see  the  picture  as  a  whole ;  (2)  the 
details  must  be  consistent — that  is,  there  must  be 
nothing  in  the  picture  that  would  not  naturally  be 
there,  or  which  could  not  be  seen  from  one  point  of 
view,  and  from  the  same  distance ;  (3)  the  picture 
must  have  perspective — that  is,  some  details  must 
stand  out  prominently  as  foreground,  some  be  indis- 
tinct as  background.  The  picture  will  then  have  unity, 
coherence,  and  emphasis — qualities  necessary  to  a  clear 
picture. 

2.  The  second  principle  of  description  is  that  the 
length  of   a   description,  and  the    amount  of   it   used 
throughout  a  composition,  be  determined  by  the  effect 
desired.     The  amount  of  description  scattered  through 
a  literary  composition,  as  well  as  the  length  of   each 
description,  is  determined  by  the  number  and  kind  of 
pictures  necessary  in  order  to  make  a  narrative  seem 
real,  an  opinion  well  founded,  or  an  argument  persua- 
sive.    Description  is  never  used  merely  to  ornament, 
nor  to  exhibit  "fine  writing."     The  reader,  therefore, 
tests  description  by  the  perfection  with  which  it  ful- 
fills   the  evident   purpose    of   the  writer ;    and  unless 
the  writer  makes  plain  his  purpose  in  using  description, 
the  reader  has  no  basis  for  judging  its  merit. 

3.  The  third  principle  is  that  description  should 
not  only  create  a  picture  in  the  mind,  but  should  also 
create  in  the  reader  the   same  emotion  with  which  the 
writer  saw  the  picture.     Seeing  a  picture  should  insure 
an  emotion.     This  is  accomplished  mainly  by  the  char- 
acter of  the  language  used.    Emotion  is  aroused  through 


54  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

the  physical  senses,  and  therefore  words  expressing 
color,  sound,  odor,  flavor,  feeling,  and  motion,  help  to 
produce  the  right  feeling.  Figures  of  speech  which 
compare  one  object  with  another  create  emotion,  and 
the  choice  of  adjectives  and  verbs  conveys  the  emotion 
with  which  the  writer  would  have  the  reader  see  the 
picture. 

The  principles  apply  equally  to  long,  detailed  de- 
scription, or  word-painting,  found  in  books  of  travel, 
and  to  those  descriptive  touches  found  scattered 
through  all  forms  of  literary  composition. 


Exposition. — Exposition  is  a  form  of  expression 
whicn  is  a  step  in  advance  of  narration  and  descrip- 
tion, and  which  is  the  foundation  for  the  still  more 
advanced  forms  of  expression  called  argumentation  and 
persuasion.  It  is  a  primitive  impulse  to  describe  what 
one  sees,  or  to  narrate  what  has  occurred;  it  is  a 
progress  in  culture  to  expose  the  processes  of  one's  own 
thinking.  When  a  person  meditates  upon  wThat  he  has 
seen,  or  upon  what  has  occurred — in  other  words,  when 
he  turns  the  process  of  thought  upon  the  great  mass 
of  observations  which  lie  in  his  memory,  and  which 
constitute  his  experience  of  life,  then  the  mass  of 
unrelated  impressions  begin  to  separate  into  groups 
as  the  relations  between  them  begin  to  appear, 
opinions  begin  to  form,  and  finally  conclusions  are 
reached.  These  conclusions  exposed,  or  set  forth,  in 
literary  composition,  constitute  a  very  interesting  and 
valuable  body  of  literature  called  exposition.  Since 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  55 

literature  classed  as  exposition  is  the  expression  of  the 
author's  understanding  of  some  phases  of  life  which 
have  come  under  his  own  observation,  it  assists  readers 
to  understand  their  own  observations  of  life,  and  to 
form  opinions  of  their  own.  The  most  general  definition 
of  exposition  is,  therefore,  that  exposition  is  commentary  upon 
life  in  general. 

The  derivation  of  the  word  exposition  indicates 
the  nature  of  this  form  of  literature.  The  word  is 
derived  from  the  Latin  root  positum,  which,  with  the 
prefix  ex,  and  the  suffix  ion,  means  the  act  of  putting 
out,  or  setting  forth  for  inspection.  This  kind  of 
writing  sets  forth  what  has  grown  in  the  writer's  mind 
by  the  process  of  thinking.  The  word  expound  is  derived 
from  the  same  root,  and  means  to  lay  open  the  full 
meaning  of,  to  clear  of  obscurity,  to  explain  or  inter- 
pret. Exposing  and  expounding  what  is  in  the  writer's 
mind  constitutes  the  whole  of  exposition.  Exposition 
may,  therefore,  be  defined  by  the  one  word,  explanation. 

The  idea  to  be  explained  can  always  be  reduced^to 
a  single  term  or  to  a  proposition.  For  instance,  the 
writer's  purpose  may  be  to  explain  what  he  under- 
stands to  be  the  meaning  of  the  term  honor ;  or  it  may 
be  his  purpose  to*  explain  the  proposition  :  Our  honor 
is  in  our  own  keeping.  The  writer's  views  about  honor 
must  have  grown  out  of  his  own  peculiar  opportunities 
for  judging  what  honor  is,  and  so  his  explanation  of 
either  the  term  or  the  proposition  will  be  influenced 
by  the  point  of  view  which  his  experience  has  given 
him.  The  point  of  view  will  not  be  just  the  same  for 
any  two  persons,  since  the  experience  of  two  persons  is 
never  exactly  alike,  and  so  the  interest  of  the  explana- 


56  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

tion  consists  in  the  individuality  of  the  point  of  view 
taken.     The  opinion  itself  may  be  commonplace,  but 
the  writer's  explanation  of  his  opinion  should  put  even 
a  familiar  subject  in  a  new  light  because  of  the  new 
point  of  view  that  the  reader  will  get.     Explanation 
should  consist  in  setting  forth  the  circumstances  which 
have  led  the  writer  to  have  his  opinion,  and  in  tracing 
the  process  of  thought  by  which  he  arrived  at  his  con- 
clusion.    This  makes  the  reader  see  the  subject  from 
the  writer's  point  of  view,  which  is  the  object  of  ex- 
pository writing.     In  exposition  there  is  more  explana- 
tion of  propositions  than  of  terms ;  indeed,  a  combina- 
tion of  both  is  usually  found.     For  instance,  the  writer 
who  explains  what  loafing  means,  may  make  use  of  this 
explanation  of   a  term  to  make  clear  the  proposition 
that  loafing  is  the  best  way  to  spend  a  holiday.     Or  if 
the  writer  wishes  to   expound    the   proposition :     The 
energetic  person  is  the  happy  person,  he  will  begin  by 
defining  the  term  energy,  and  will  not  enter  upon  his 
main  theme  until  he  has  made  clear  that  by  an  ener- 
getic person  he  means  the  one  who  always  "gets  into 
the  game."     But,  whether  exposition  be  the  explana- 
tion of   a  term  or  of   a  proposition,  or   of   both,  it  is 
valuable  only  as  it"  is  the  writer's  own  view,  resulting 
from  his  own  thought  about  the  occurrences  which  have 
constituted  his  own  experience.     Exposition   may  there- 
fore  be  further   defined   as  the  setting  forth  of  the  writer's 
understanding  of  a  part  of  his   experience   in  the  form  of 
explanation  of  a  term  or  a  proposition. 

The  purpose  of  exposition  is  to  set  forth  the  writer's 
knowledge  or  his  opinion.  Because  of  this,  there  are 
two  distinctly  different  classes  of  exposition  :  the  one, 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  57 

called  treatise,  is  scholarly  and  scientific ;  the  other, 
called  essay,  is  popular  and  conversational.  The  trea- 
tise aims  to  give  information,  and  its  value  lies  in  the 
accuracy  and  reliability  of  the  writer's  knowledge. 
The  essay  aims  to  express  opinion  and  give  counsel 
upon  all  sorts  of  subjects,  trifling  and  serious,  and  its 
value  lies  in  the  charm  of  the  writer's  personality. 
The  knowledge  which  the  writer  offers  may  be  pro- 
found, and  gained  by  scholarly  investigation ;  or  it 
may  be  a  common  kind  of  knowledge,  gained  by 
experience  with  common  affairs  of  life.  In  either 
case,  the  knowledge  set  forth  is  the  writer's  first-hand 
knowledge,  gained  by  his  own  investigation,  experi- 
ment, or  experience.  The  essay  sets  forth  some  opinion 
arising  from  some  set  of  observations  and  experiences 
which  are  peculiar  to  the  writer  himself.  So,  whether 
the  writer's  aim  be  to  (jive  information  or  to  express  opinion, 
exposition  is  always  the  setting  forth  of  the  writer's  per- 
sonality. 

Principles  of  Exposition: — 

1.  The  first  principle   of   exposition   is  that  the 
writer  shall  set  forth  that  knowledge  or  opinion  which 
lias  developed   in  his  own  mind  by  his  own  thinking 
about  his  own  experience.     The  material   for  exposi- 
tion, then,  is  the  writer's  own  thoughts,  together  with 
the  scenes  or  events  or  experiences  which  led  to  those 
thoughts. 

2.  The  second  principle  is  that  the  form  in  which 
knowledge  or  opinion  is  set  forth  shall  be  explanation 
of  a  term,  or  of  a  proposition,  or  a  combination  of  the 
two.     Narration  and  description  may  be  used  only  to 


58  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

set  forth  the  scenes  or  events  which  the  writer  has  been 
thinking  about  in  order  to  have  reached  the  opinion  or 
knowledge  he  is  setting  forth.  However  much  narra- 
tion and  description  may  be  necessary  in  order  to  make 
a  clear  explanation,  the  reader  is  never  allowed  to 
forget  what  the  proposition  is,  or  what  term  is  being 
defined. 

3.  The  third   principle  is  that  one  central   idea, 
one  proposition,  or  one  term,  shall  be  kept  constantly 
before  the  reader.     Unity  of  impression  is  essential,  as 
in  all  kinds  of  writing.     The  reader  must  finish  read- 
ing with  no  doubt  about  what  the  one  idea  is  which 
the  writer  has  exposed  in  the  form  of  a  single  opinion 
which  may  be  stated  as  a  proposition.     It  is  a  part  of 
the  writer's  individuality  to  devise  means  for  keeping 
this  one  idea  before  the  reader's  mind  without  being 
tiresome  or  formal.     The  statement  of  the  proposition 
may  be   found  in  the  writing,  and  is  called  the  key 
sentence ;    but  if  it  is  not  there,  the  reader  should  be 
able  to  supply  it  readily. 

4.  The  fourth  principle  is  that,  since  exposition  is 
explanation,    clearness  is   essential.     For   this  reason 
the   writer's   plan    is    made   apparent.     Headings,    or 
divisions  of  the  subject,  stand  out  plainly.     Strongly 
marked  transitions  and  frequent  summaries  are  found 
in  exposition,  except  in  the  lightest  kind  which  is  clear 
without  them.     The  bearing  of  successive  points  upon 
each   other  is  shown    by  lapping   the  thought  of    one 
paragraph  over  upon  the  thought  of  the  next.     At  the 
beginning  of  each  paragraph  some  statement  is  made 
which  summarizes  what  has  been  said  and  states. what 
is  to  come.     Thus   the   reader  can  take  in  the  whole 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  59 

treatment  by  glancing  at  the  beginning  of  successive 
paragraphs  and" reading  the  conclusion.  Also,  frequent 
reference  to  what  has  gone  before  keeps  freshly  before 
the  reader  the  points  which  have  been  made.  All 
kinds  of  exposition  do  not  require  such  formal  means 
for  making  the  explanation  clear;  there  is  as  little 
formality  as  possible  in  any  good  composition.  Again, 
clear  explanation  requires  illustrative  examples  which 
should  be  the  actual  experiences  which  have  led  the 
writer  to  his  opinion.  It  is  in  the  use  of  these  exam- 
ples that  the  writer  often  fails  to  be  clear.  The  bear- 
ing of  an  illustration  upon  the  main  idea  must  not  be 
left  to  the  reader's  power  to  make  the  connection ; 
the  point  which  is  being  illustrated  should  be 
clearly  stated,  and  the  bearing  of  the  illustration  upon 
it  clearly  explained. 

5.  The  fifth  principle  is  that  all  terms  used  in  ex- 
position shall  be  clearly  defined.  The  main  idea  or 
proposition  is  expressed  by  one  or  two  main  words,  or 
by  a  phrase,  which  should  be  strictly  defined.  Also, 
there  should  be  no  term  in  the  whole  writing  about 
which  there  could  be  any  doubt  as  to  the  sense  in 
which  the  writer  uses  it.  There  are  many  terms  in 
common  use  which  are  connected  with  ^o  many  associ- 
ations that  the  idea  expressed  by  each  term  has  become 
complex,  and  each  person  uses  the  term  with  a  differ- 
ent meaning.  Such  terms  as  religion,  culture,  style, 
justice,  poetry,  nature,  eloquence,  education,  need 
definition  in  order  to  be  understood  as  the  anthor  in- 
tends them  to  be,  and  so  exposition  is  full  of  defini- 
tions. This  does  not  make  the  writing  formal  and  dry, 
because  a  definition  is  not  necessarily  the  concise  and 


60  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

purely  logical  thing  found  in  dictionaries.  Oarlyle's 
definition  of  religion  is  an  example:  "The  thing  a 
man  does  practically  believe  (and  this  is  often  enough 
without  asserting  it  even  to  himself,  much  less  to 
others)  ;  the  thing  a  man  does  practically  lay  to  heart, 
and  know  for  certain,  concerning  his  vital  relations  to 
this  mysterious  universe,  and  his  duty  and  destiny 
there,  that  is  in  all  cases  the  primary  thing  for  him, 
and  creatively  determines  all  the  rest.  That  is  his 
religion."  A  good  definition  is  enough  to  make  a 
literary  reputation ;  for  instance,  Mathew  Arnold's — 
"Literature  is  a  criticism  of  life."  A  good  definition 
gains  currency  at  once  and  becomes  an  epigram ;  for 
instance,  Buffon's — "The  style  is  the  man  himself." 
Any  definition  must  put  limits  upon  the  meaning  of  a 
term,  and  must  be  adequate  to  distinguish  the  thing 
defined  from  other  things ;  but  a  definition  may  be 
made  to  have  literary  quality  by  associating  the  term 
defined  with  something  well  known.  For  example, 
Oarlyle  defines  human  greatness  as  "not  the  greatness 
of  a  hewn  obelisk,  but  of  an  Alpine  mountain — unsub- 
duable  granite,  piercing  far  and  wide  into  the  heavens, 
yet  in  the  clefts  of  it  fountains,  green,  beautiful 
valleys  with  flowers/'  Defining  is  usually  limited  to 
a  single  sentence,  but  may  be  extended  by  means  of 
an  example,  such  as  defining  ill-temper  by  giving  the 
example,  in  Christ's  parable,  of  the  elder  brother  of 
the  prodigal  son ;  or  by  means  of  comparison  and  con- 
trast, as  is  done  in  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
in  which  charity  is  contrasted  with  eloquence,  with 
prophecy,  and  with  generosity ;  or  by  explaining  the 
derivation  of  the  term ;  or  by  means  of  description  if 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  61 

the  term  is  the  name  of  an  object.  This  defining  of 
terms  is,  of  course,  thrown  in  by  the  way,  but  is  a 
characteristic  feature  of  expository  composition. 

6.  The  sixth  principle  is  that  expository  writing, 
like  any  other  kind  of  writing,  must  express  the 
author's  feelings  in  order  to  be  classed  as  literature. 
Knowledge  may  be  expressed  with  some  touch  of 
emotion,  and  popular  exposition,  which  is  the  expres- 
sion of  opinion  in  essay  form,  fairly  glows  with  per- 
sonal feeling.  The  object  of  exposition  is  to  make  the 
reader  understand  how  the  author  feels  as  well  as  what 
he  thinks. 


THE  TREATISE.— The  treatise  is  that  form  of  ex- 
position which  has  for  its  object  the  setting  forth  of 
the  writer's  knowledge  for  the  information  of  the 
reader.  The  treatise  aims  to  treat  a  subject  with  com- 
pleteness and  accuracy,  in  a  style  that  is  formal  and 
orderly,  and  distinguished  for  its  clearness  of  meaning. 
A  treatise  may  be  long  enough  to  fill  several  volumes, 
or  it  may  be  short,  like  the  articles  found  in  encyclo- 
paedias. The  value  of  the  treatise  lies  wholly  in  the 
accuracy  of  the  information  given.  A  text- book  is  an 
example  of  the  treatise. 

THE  MONOGRAPH. — The  monograph  is  the  popular 
form  of  the  treati se .  It s  aim  is  to  popularize  knowledge . 
The  subject  is  some  important  question  of  the  day,  and 
the  treatment  is  both  scientific  and  popular.  It  is 
calleli  monograph  because  it  treats  some  one  phase 
of  a  wide  subject.  The  characteristic  feature  is  that 
the  writer  sets  forth  some  new  bit  of  knowledge  which 


62  THE  READER'S 

has  resulted  from  his  own  original  investigation.  The 
material  consists  of  the  writer's  records  of  his  own  ob- 
servations, discoveries,  or  experiments,  and  his  resulting 
knowledge  or  theory.  Examples  of  this  class  are  the 
theses  which  universities  require  of  candidates  for 
degrees.  The  modern  experiments  and  discoveries  in 
science  are  published  in  this  form  for  the  ordinary 
reader,  the  treatise  being  intended  for  the  specialist. 

THE  ESSAY.— The  essay  is  that  form  of  exposition 
which  has  for  its  object  the  setting  forth  of  the  writer's 
opinions,  impressions,  feelings,  or  whims.  'By  deriva- 
tion, the  essay  is  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  writer 
to  assay  the  mass  of  impressions  lying  in  his  mind,  and 
to  produce  an  idea  of  some  worth,  just  as  the  assayer 
discovers  precious  metal  in  the  rough  ore.  Mr.  Mabie 
describes  the  essay  as  "that  form  of  writing  which 
deals  with  matters  instinct  with  hum  an  interest;  which 
is  skillfully  compounded  of  observation,  insight,  humor, 
and  judgment;  which  is  touched  with  the  charm  of 
delightful  personality,  expressed  in  a  style  full  of 
character  and  distinction."  The  essay  is  personal  and 
confidential,  like  a  chat  with  a  familiar  friend.  It  is 
"written  talk,"  and  whatever  would  be  banished  from 
familiar  conversation,  such  as  pompous  phrase,  intri- 
cate structure,  rhetorical  display,  or  heavy  thought,  is 
banished  from  the  essay.  The  language  is  colloquial, 
and  yet  gives  the  effect  of  nice  finish.  There  is  just 
the  right  amount  of  negligence,  and  also  the  right 
amount  of  care,  to  give  the  effect  of  an  ease  that  is 
polished  and  elegant. 

THE  Two  MAIN  FORMS  OF  THE  ESSAY. — The  form  of 
the  essay  is  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  subject 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  63 

chosen  and  by  the  writer's  temperament.  One  kind  of 
essay,  called  the  personal  essay,  seems  to  be  the  natural 
overflow  of  the  writer's  feelings.  Another  kind,  called 
the  didactic  essay,  seems  to  be  the  result  of  the 
writer's  set  purpose.  In  the  personal  essay,  the  writer 
takes  the  attitude  of  a  confidential  friend,  and  in  set- 
ting forth  his  opinion  indulges  in  much  self-revelation. 
In  the  didactic  essay,  the  writer  takes  the  attitude  of 
an  instructor,  and  gives  information  and  expresses 
opinion  with  an  air  of  authority  which  is  not  offensive, 
but  which  is  the  natural  dignity  of  the  person  who  is 
talking  about  something  concerning  which  he  really  is 
an  authority,  on  account  of  his  personal  experience 
with  the  subject.  The  writer  of  the  personal  essay  is 
at  his  best  when  he  is  playful  and  humorous ;  the  writer 
of  the  didactic  essay,  when  he  is  logical.  In  the  per- 
sonal essay  the  interest  centers  chiefly  in  the  writer's 
personality;  in  the  didactic,  it  centers  in  the  proposi- 
tion, or  subject-matter.  In  the  personal  essay  the 
opinion  or  proposition  is  delicately  suggested ;  in  the 
didactic  essay,  it  is  flatly  stated.  Both  forms  of  the 
essay  are  good  art. 

THE  DIDACTIC  ESSAY. — A  writer  with  a  clear  mind, 
one  which  naturally  acts  logically,  will  be  apt  to 
develop  so  strong  an  opinion  that  he  will  be  rather 
serious  in  setting  it  forth,  and  will  naturally  use  the 
didactic  or  logical  method,  and  simple,  direct,  and  vig- 
orous expression.  Such  a  writer  makes  one  clearly- 
defined  theme  the  nucleus  of  his  essay,  and  chooses 
only  such  material  as  is  appropriate  for  expanding  that 
theme,  for  detaining  the  reader's  mind  upon  it,  and 
for  directing  the  reader's  attention  to  its  different 


64  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

aspects,  until  it  becomes  as  interesting  a  subject  of 
thought  to  the  reader  as  it  is  to  the  writer.  He  aims 
at  careful  plan.  Divisions  are  few  and  distinct.  The 
whole  leaves  a  sense  of  completeness.  The  reader  feels 
that  just  the  points  are  given  which  are  necessary  to 
make  a  satisfactory  whole  ;  he  does  not  feel  that  some- 
thing may  have  been  forgotten,  or  that  anything  could 
be  left  out.  The  author  seems  to  have  seen,  before  he 
started,  the  limits  within  which  he  would  keep,  and 
so  completes  a  circle  of  thought.  The  art  of  this  kind 
of  essay  consists  in  the  choice  of  illustrations,  and  the 
way  they  are  applied.  All  the  facts  and  illustrations 
stand  in  perfectly  clear  relation  to  the  theme,  they 
are  themselves  full  of  suggestiveness  and  beauty,  and 
are  so  arranged  as  to  give  them  their  greatest  effect- 
iveness. It  is  selection  of  material,  combination  of 
material,  and  style  of  language,  which  count  in  this 
kind  of  literary  composition. 

THE  PERSONAL  ESSAY. — On  the  other  hand,  a  writer 
with  a  social  disposition,  who  loves  to  talk,  and  who 
is  willing  to  take  anyone  into  his  confidence,  will  be 
apt  to  develop  an  opinion  which  is  rather  whimsical, 
and  which  is  the  result  of  a  mood  rather  than  of  logical 
deduction,  and  in  setting  it  forth  will  naturally  use  a 
discursive  method  which  seems  at  first  to  violate  unity. 
He  will  introduce  his  personality  by  the  use  of  the 
pronoun  lll"  and  by  a  conversational  style.  This  kind  of 
personal  essay  is  charming  because  it  is  apparently  un- 
restrained and  yet  in  good  taste.  The  reading  of  such 
an  essay  is  like  actually  meeting  the  author  on  familiar 
terms.  Such  an  essay  has  no  formal  structure,  but 
takes  the  course  of  conversation.  The  writer  seems  to 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  65 

have  no  plan,  and  yet  there  is  a  thread  of  connection 
that  leads  the  reader  easily  from  point  to  point.  The 
reader  is  almost  unconscious  that  any  one  definite 
theme  is  being  revealed,  until,  at  the  last,  one  single 
idea  stands  out  as  the  effect  of  the  essay  as  a  whole. 
The  value  of  this  kind  of  essay  consists  in  the  new 
point  of  view  which  is  furnished  by  the  writer's  indi- 
vidual way  of  seeing  things. 

THE  MORAL  ESSAY. — There  are  essays  which  have 
the  general  characteristics  of  the  personal  essay,  but 
which  are  distinguished  from  it  by  nobility  of  subject 
and  seriousness  of  tone.  These  are  classed  as  moral 
essays,  of  which  the  essays  of  Bacon  and  of  Emerson 
are  examples. 

THE  EDITORIAL. — The  editorial  differs  from  the 
essay  only  in  being  written  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  general  public,  rather  than  from  the  individual 
point  of  view  of  the  writer.  An  editorial  is  a  com- 
ment upon  some  event  reported  in  the  news  columns, 
or  else  the  subject  is  some  principle  of  conduct  or 
politics  suggested  by  some  current  event.  The  aim  of 
an .  editorial  is  to  show  the  significance  of  passing 
events,  to  comment  on  them  and  set  forth  their  salient 
features,  and  to  influence  public  opinion  by  counsel  or 
direct  appeal. 

PUBLIC  ADDRESSES. — Any  public  address,  such  as  a 
sermon  or  a  lecture,  is  an  essay,  provided  the  speak- 
er's aim  seems  to  be  to  set  forth  some  subject  in  a 
convincing,  interesting,  and  instructive  way.  If  there 
is  a  direct  appeal  to  the  will  of  the  hearers,  urging 
some  specific  action,  the  address  is  called  an  oration. 


66  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

CRITICISM. — A  large  part  of  the  writings  classed  as 
essay,  is  devoted  to  the  subject  of  literature.  Essays 
which  are  classed  as  criticism  have  for  their  object 
the  explanation  of  a  single  literary  composition,  or  of 
literary  art  in  general.  Some  of  these  essays  are  mas- 
terly interpretations  and  appreciations  of  great  works 
of  literary  art,  full  of  the  personality  of  the  writers, 
and  ranking  high  as  creative,  original  composition. 
Other  classes  of  criticism  are  strictly  didactic,  their 
object  being  to  give  instruction  about  a  book,  or 
literary  matters  of  any  sort. 

HIGHER  CRITICISM. — The  term  "higher  criticism" 
is  usually  understood  to  apply  only  to  critical  study  of 
the  Bible.  The  term,  however,  may  be  applied  to  the 
critical  study  of  any  book  of  importance,  if  the  critical 
study  is  limited  to  the  study  of  the  history  of  the  book — 
how  the  book  came  to  be  what  it  k,  the  circumstances 
surrounding  its  production,  the  effect  of  the  environ- 
ment of  time  and  place,  and  the  author's  personality. 
The  object  is  to  get  a  basis  for  interpretation. 

THE  ABSTRACT. — The  abstract  is  used  to  report  pub- 
lic addresses,  and  to  furnish  the  general  outlines  of  a 
book  as  foundation  for  further  comment.  The  writer's 
purpose  is  to  reproduce  a  speech  or  any  literary  com- 
position in  narrower  compass,  for  the  use  of  persons 
who  have  not  heard  or  read  the  original.  An  abstract 
gives  the  gist  of  thought  with  the  same  proportion  and 
emphasis  that  it  had  in  the  original.  Success  in  writ- 
ing abstract  depends  on  the  writer's  power  to  distin- 
guish in  the  original  those  points  which  are  essential 
from  those  which  are  subordinate,  and  passing  by  all 
minor  points,  to  trace  the  main  line  of  thought.  The 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  67 

art  of  abstract  writing  consists  in  reducing  the  scale  of 
the  original  without  eliminating  any  important  matter. 
This  requires  a  rearrangement  of  the  writer's  thought, 
and  the  packing  of  points  into  comprehensive  phrases 
and  single  epithets.  An  abstract  may  make  some 
slight  reference  to  the  merit  of  the  original,  and  may 
comment  slightly  on  style ;  but  this  is  a  subordinate 
purpose,  and  such  reference  is  usually  made  by  some 
qualifying  word  or  phrase,  rather  than  by  direct  state- 
ment. An  abstract  has  some  value  as  interpreta- 
tion, and  therefore  is  classed  as  criticism,  since  the 
direct  line  of  ^an  author's  thought  may  be  obscured  to 
the  ordinary  reader  by  the  amplifying  graces  of  literary 
style,  and  the  abstract  makes  the  line  of  thought  stand 
out  clearly  to  any  person's  apprehension. 

BOOK  REVIEWS. — A  book  review  is  properly  the  test- 
ing of  the  value  of  a  book  by  established  principles 
or  current  standards,  and  furnishes  reasons  why  a 
book  should  be  praised  or  condemned.  The  value  of 
this  kind  of  writing  depends  upon  the  writer's  power 
to  subordinate  his  personal  views  and  tastes  to  accepted 
standards.  The  reviewer  must,  of  course,  have  a 
broad  knowledge  of  art  principles,  a  cultivated  taste, 
and  the  judicial  faculty  which  can  compare  a  specific 
work  with  general  principles,  and  decide  wherein  the 
work  conforms  to  these  principles  and  wherein  it 
fails.  In  making  his  decision,  the  reviewer  is  sup- 
posed to  think  only  of  the  interests  of  literary  art,  and 
not  of  the  interests  of  the  individual  writer  whom  he 
is  reviewing,  and  therefore  a  book  review  may  be 
a  valuable  part  of  permanent  literature.  There  is  a 
lighter  form  of  review,  also  classed  as  literature,  and 


68  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

considered  more  artistic  because  less  didactic,  which 
comments  on  literature  entirely  from  a  personal  point 
of  view.  It  is  conversational  in  style,  and  aims  to  give 
impressions  rather  than  decisions.  It  is  the  expression 
of  the  writer's  personal  taste,  without  reference  to  ac- 
ceptQd  standards.  Again,  reviews  of  hooks  dealing 
with  subjects  of  popular  interest,  often  become  essays 
which  treat  ideas  suggested  by  the  book  reviewed. 

The  book  notice  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  re- 
view, but  it  is  not  real  criticism.  The  writer  has 
merely  a  commercial  purpose,  and  he  gives  information 
only  about  such  points  as  the  buyer  of  a»book  will  be 
interested  in.  He  gives  the  publisher,  price,  and  size 
of  a  book,  something  about  its»  author,  its  popularity  as 
compared  with  that  of  other  books,  a  little  notion  of 
the  character  of^its  contents,  and  a  crude  estimate  of 
its  worth.  The  true  book  review  gives  similar  facts, 
but  in  a  foot  note. 

Typical  book  reviews  may  be  found  in  the  intro- 
ductory chapters  of  edited  classics,  in  which  the 
editor  aims  to  give  a  full  explanation  of  the  book 
reviewed.  An  examination  of  an  editor's  prefatory 
chapter  will  reveal  the  following  points  as  those  which 
constitute  the  scope  of  a  typical  book  review : — 

1.  Sources — what   suggested    the    book,    how    it 
started  in  the  author's  mind,  how  it  took  final  shape. 

2.  Circumstances  under  which  it  was  written  and 
published — just  enough  of   author's   life  to    show  the 
relation  between  his  life'and  his  book. 

3.  Scope   of    book — the    germ    thought,   and    the 
general  plan  of  treatment. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  '  69 

4.  Brief  abstract  of  writer's  thought. 

5.  Discussion  of  doctrines — how  the  author's  ideas 
differ   from   the   opinions  of   the  general  public,  and 
what  ideas  were  new  to  the  first  readers. 

6.  Popularity — the  class  of  readers  for  whom  the 
book  is  intended;    the  different   lights  in  which  the 
book    may  strike    different  readers;    its   reception   at 
first,    subsequent   editions,    and   present   sales ;    what 
critics  have  said;    answers  to  adverse  criticism. 

7.  Characteristics    of     style — the    author's    self- 
revelations  pointed  out. 

8.  Relation  the  book  bears  to  the  author's  other 
books. 

9.  Estimate  of  value  from  both  scientific  and  per- 
sonal point  of  view. 

10.     Effects  that  have  been  produced  by  the  book, 
and  effects  upon  present  readers. 

ESSAYISTS,  OLD  AND  NEW:— 

WRITERS  OP  THE  PERSONAL  ESSAY. — Montaigne,  Addi- 
son,  Steele,  Charles  Lamb,  Goldsmith,  Thackeray, 
Washington  Irving,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  George 
William  Curtis,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  Austin  Dob- 
son,  Agnes  Repplier. 

WRITERS  OF  THE  DIDACTIC  ESSAY. — Macaulay,  De- 
Quincey,  Hazlitt,  Carlyle,  Ruskin,  Herbert  Spencer, 
John  Fiske,  Arlo  Bates. 

WRITERS  OP  THE  MORAL  ESSAY. — Bacon,  Emerson, 
Sir  Arthur  Helps,  Charles  Kingsley,  Henry  Drum- 
moiid. 


70  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

LITERARY  CRITICS. — Walter  Pater,  Matthew  Arnold, 
George  Saintsbury,  J.  A.  Symonds,  James  Kussell 
Lowell,  Andrew  Lang,  Edmund  Gosse,  Frederic  Harri- 
son, Leslie  Stephen,  Augustine  Birrell,  Richard  Holt 
Button,  Edward  Dowden,  Walter  Bagehot,  E.  P.  Whip- 
pie,  Richard  Garnett,  William  Archer,  J.  0.  Shairp, 
Edmund  Clarence  Stedman,  Richard  Moulton,  Denton 
J.  Snider,  Hiram  Corson. 

POPULAR  ESSAYISTS  OP  THE  DAY. — Hamilton  Wright 
Mabie,  Brander  Matthews,  Charles  Dudley  Warner, 
Henry  Van  Dyke,  F.  W.  H.  Myers,  W.  D.  Howells, 
Henry  James,  Justin  McCarthy,  Thomas  Wentworth 
Higginson,  A.  T.  Quiller-Couch,  Richard  Le  Gallienne, 
Maurice  Maeterlinck,  John  Burroughs,  Julian  Ralph, 
Eugene  Field,  Maurice  Thompson,  Alice  Meynell,  Vida 
Scudder,  Charles  W.  Eliot,  Dwight  Hillis,  Charles  F. 
Dole,  Bishop  Henry  Potter,  Henry  Thurston  Peck, 
Elbert  Hubbard,  F.  P.  Dunne,  Jerome  K;  Jerome, 
Henry  Cabot  Lodge,  George  Brandes,  Charles  Wagner, 
Barrett  Wendell,  George  Woodberry,  Woodrow  Wilson, 
Parke  Godwin,  W.  0.  Brownell,  A.  Ainger,  G.  K. 
Chesterton,  Kenneth  Grahame,  A.  0.  Benson. 


Argumentation. — Argumentation  is  closely  re- 
lated to  exposition  and  persuasion.  Exposition  sets 
forth  a  proposition  so  that  its  various  aspects.are  clearly 
understood;  argumentation  proves  the  truth  or  falsity 
of  a  proposition  ;  persuasion  addresses  the  will  for  the 
purpose  of  securing  the  action  which  naturally  follows 
upon  the  proof  of  a  proposition.  Exposition  and  argu- 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  71 

merit  prepare  the  way  for  persuasion.  In  literature 
the  three  forms  are  usually  found  in  combination; 
argument  cannot  proceed  until  the  proposition  is  made 
perfectly  clear,  and  argument  seems  to  be  without 
purpose  unless  the  conviction  it  creates  leads  to  some 
definite  action.  A  literary  composition  is  classed  as 
one  of  these  forms  according  as  one  form  seems  to  pre- 
dominate over  the  others.  When  a  proposition  is  fully 
expounded,  its  truth  or  falsity  may  be  plain  without 
argument,  and  the  writing  is  classed  as  exposition. 
But  the  reader  is  not  always  convinced,  even  when  he 
understands  the  writer's  opinion,  and  argument  is 
necessary  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  opinion,  the  writer 
seeming  to  be  satisfied  as  soon  as  the  proof  is  com- 
plete ;  this  writing  is  classed  as  argument.  Again,  a 
particular  action,  or  line  of  conduct,  may  be  pointed 
out  as  the  natural  result  of  conviction,  and  the  climax 
of  the  whole  composition  being  an  appeal  to  the  will, 
the  writing  is  classed  as  persuasion. 

Argument  differs  from  exposition  in  that  it  not 
only  explains  some  proposition,  but  pushes  aside  some 
other  proposition.  Argument  implies  opposition;  it 
involves  two  opposing  theories.  The  aim  of  argument 
is  to  put  into  the  reader's  mind  one  explanation  in- 
stead of  another — in  other  words,  to  fortify  one  propo- 
sition and  demolish  another.  Difference  of  opinion  is 
caused  by  difference  in  point  of  view ;  so  the  one  gen- 
eral aim  of  argument  is  to  change  the  reader's  point  of 
view. 

Argument  in  its  strictest  sense  is  used  in  addresses 
before  courts  of  law  and  in  legislative  assemblies; 
some  of  these  addresses,  in  celebrated  cases,  form  a 


72  .   THE  READER'S  BASIS 

part  of  permanent  literature.  Argument  found  in 
literature  is  not  so  formal,  but  the  same  principles 
underlie  any  form  of  argument.  In  literature,  argu- 
ment is  used  with  the  sincere  desire  to  reveal  and 
advance  the  truth.  It  is  used  by  writers  on  science, 
ethics,  politics,  and  religion — by  those  who  put  for- 
ward new  theories.  But  the  process  of  argument  is 
essentially  the  same  when  reasoning  about  the  simplest 
subjects  and  everyday  matters. 

The  reader  needs  to  know  something  of  the  princi- 
ples of  argument  in  order  that  he  may  judge  the 
weight  of  any  argument  he  reads,  and  may  protect  him- 
self*from  undue  influence  by  knowing  to  what  extent 
he  may  allow  the  argument  to  affect  him. 

NATURE  CP  THE  QUESTION.— First  of  all,  the  question 
must  be  one  which  can  have  a  conclusion.  Some  sub- 
jects belong  entirely  to  the  field  of  speculation,  and 
are  open  to  exposition  but  not  to  argument. 

LIMITS  OF  THE  QUESTION. — Next,  the  question  must 
be  definitely  limited.  It  should  be  reduced  to  a  single 
statement  or  resolution  that  completely  covers  its 
scope.  In  addition,  argument  should  be  preceded  by 
exposition  wnich  explains  whatever  in  the  question  is 
obscure,  which  defines  all  terms,  which  points  out  what 
is  the  main  issue  and  what  is  of  secondary  importance, 
which  explains  whether  the  question  admits  of  direct 
decision  or  is  one  concerning  which  only  a  probability 
can  be  established,  and  which  makes  plain  the  limits 
within  which  the  discussion  can  be  applied. 

MATERIAL. — The.  character  of  the  material  used  is  of 
next  importance.  The  value  of  the  material  is  deter- 
mined by  whether  it  has  any  real  bearing  on  the  case. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  73 

It  is  in  the  misuse  of  material,  obscuring  the  point  by 
irrelevant  material,  that  a  writer  gets  undue  influence 
over  his  reader. 

EVIDENCE. — The  reader  should  remember  that  a 
question  is  argued  on  evidence.  The  testing  of  the 
validity  of  evidence  constitutes  the  basis  of  decision. 
A  question  is  settled  when  the  opposing  side  can  pro- 
duce no  evidence  as  satisfactory  as  that  produced  by 
the  other  side.  Evidence  consists  largely  in  facts. 
A4Know  your  facts"  is  the  basis  of  all  argument.  Facts 
are  secured  by  testimony  and  by  authority.  Affirma- 
tions of  what  a  witness  has  himself  observed  is  testi- 
mony ;  declarations  of  opinion  based  on  research  and 
skill  is  authority.  In  judging  the  value  of  testimony, 
the  character  of  the  witness  must  be  considered — his 
power  to  tell  the  truth,  as  affected  by  his  willingness  to 
testify,  his  prejudices,  the  nature  of  his  mind  upon 
which  depends  the  accuracy  of  his  observation  and 
statement,  and  his  reputed  honesty.  In  judging  the 
value  of  authority,  the  judgment  of  the  witness,  or  his 
opportunities  for  forming  a  true  opinion,  must  be 
taken  into  account.  Having  secured  facts,  theories 
are  built  upon  them,  and  the  reader  should  see  that 
the  theories  are  justified  by  the  facts,  and  that  all  the 
facts  are  satisfied  by  the  theory.  Whoever  makes  the 
most  rational  explanation  of  facts  wins  an  argument, 
for  argument  is  really  an  effort  to  "harmonize  a  mass  of 
facts  by  an  explanation.  Skill  in  argument  consists  in 
setting  forth  those  facts  which  only  the  writer's  view 
will  explain  ;  or  massing  as  many  facts  as  possible  that 
support,  the  writer's  view,  aud  then  making  of  light 
importance  those  opposing  facts  which  cannot  be  over- 


74  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

looked.  The  reader's  power  to  judge  argument  consists 
in  his  power  to  seize  the  central  fact  and  see  if  that  is 
satisfactorily  explained ;  or  to  see  if  the  facts  piled  up 
are  explained  by  the  writer's  theory  better  than  by  any 
other  theory  offered. 

KINDS  OP  ARGUMENT. — The  proof  of  truth  consists 
not  only  in  the  massing  of  facts,  but  in  drawing  logical 
inferences  from  them.  These  inferences  are  drawn  by 
two  processes  of  reasoning  called  induction  and  deduc- 
tion. 

INDUCTION. — The  inductive  method  starts  with  facts 
and  reaches  general  principles.  Facts- themselves  are 
not  proofs,  but  are  indications  from  which  an 
hypothesis  is  made  probable.  Induction  consists  in 
finding  an  hypothesis  which  accounts  for  all  the  facts. 
It  is  customary  to  give  a  few  facts,  showing  their 
bearing  upon  each  other,  and  then  state  an  hypothesis, 
corroborating  it  by  other  facts  until  the  hypothesis  is 
accepted  as  a  general  truth.  Induction,  then,  is  a  pro- 
cess of  setting  forth  the  relations  between  facts  until 
a  principle  is  discovered  that  includes  them  all.  The 
conclusion  of  the  inductive  method  becomes  a  princi- 
ple or  general  truth. 

INDUCTIVE  METHODS  : — 

1.  Given  a  set  of  facts  which  may  be  called 
effects,  the  effort  is  to  find  a  cause  that  accounts  for 
them.  The  cause  must  be  adequate  to  produce  the 
effect,  and  the  cause  must  not  have  been  interfered 
with  by  other  causes.  This  cause  when  found  is  the 
conclusion  of  the  induction  process,  and  is  used  as  a 
general  truth  to  support  some  theory.  From  this  gen- 
eral truth,  the  argument  proceeds  to  other  truths  or 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  75 

particular  cases.     This  is  called  Argument  from  Cause. 

2.  Another  way  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion  from 
the  examination  of  facts  is  to  make  use  of  the  principle 
that  some  things   are  always  accompanied  by  others, 
and  that  some  things  are  the  usual  or  probable  accom- 
paniment of   others.     If   a  fact  shows  the  presence  of 
one  thing,  it  is   an  indication  of   the  presence  of  its 
usual  accompaniment.     This  is   called    circumstantial 
evidence,  and,  if  good  for  anything,  adds  to  the  store 
of  indications  by  means  of  which  a  conclusion  may  be 
formed.     This    is    called    Argument   from  Sign.     The 
strength  of   this  kind    of   induction   depends   on   the 
uniformity  with  which  the  known  fact  accompanies  its 
sign.     The  danger  of  the  argument  is  that  it  may  be 
applied  from  an  experience  too  limited  to  be  just. 

3.  Another  way  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion  is  to 
use  parallel  cases.     Instances  of  what  has  occurred  are 
taken  as  indications  of  what  may  occur  again.     What 
is  true  in  a  given  case  is  taken  as  indication  of  what 
will  be  true  in  a  parallel  case.     This  is  called  Argu- 
ment from  Analogy.     It  is  weak  argument  since  it  is 
doubtful  if   there   are  any  really  parallel   cases,   and 
since  conditions  which  appear   to  be  alike  are  really 
not  alike.     Analogy  counts  as  illustration  rather  than 
as  argument. 

Induction  is  used  to  introduce  some  new  truth,  or 
to  convince  of  something  not  generally  believed. 

DEDUCTION. — The  deductive  method  starts  with  a 
general  truth  or  principle  and  reaches  another  truth 
not  yet  accepted  as  general,  and  so  called  a  particular 
truth.  The  process  consists  in  establishing  two  prem- 
ifees  which  if  admitted  makes  the  conclusion  inevita- 


76  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

ble.  A  general  truth  is  affirmed  as  covering  all  cases, 
and  it  is  called  the  major  premise ;  something  is  then 
affirmed  to  be  a  particular  case  to  which  the  major 
premise  must  apply,  and  this  is  called  the  minor  pre- 
mise ;  if  both  are  established,  there  is  no  doubt  about 
the  conclusion.  In  ordinary  affairs,  we  affirm  many 
things  to  be  true,  which  we  believe  because  we  uncon- 
sciously believe  some  general  principle  with  which  we 
associate  the  thing  affirmed  to  be  true.  To  associate  a 
certain  affirmation  with  its  proper  principle,  so  that  a 
certain  conclusion  will  be  inevitable,  is  the  method  of 
deductive  argument.  Either  the  major  or  the  minor 
premise,  or  both  taken  separately,  may  be  an  undis- 
puted truth ;  the  question  lies  in  their  association,  and 
upon  this  the  conclusion  depends. 

Deduction  is  used  to  apply  old  truths  to  new  cases. 
It  strengthens  ideas  already  held  by  furnishing  new 
evidence.  It  is  the  natural  method  of  the  teacher,  or 
one  who  speaks  with  authority. 

INDIRECT  PROOF. — Argument  consists  both  in  the 
proof  of  truth  and  the  refutation  of  error.  The  direct 
establishment  of  the  truth  is  sometimes  the  sufficient 
refutation  of  error;  but  there  are  cases  where  the 
destroying  of  error  is  the  best  way  to  establish  truth, 
since  truth,  freed  from  whatever  obscures  or  obstructs 
it,  needs  no  support.  The  first  method  is  called  direct, 
and  is  constructive ;  the  second  is  called  indirect,  and 
is  destructive.  We  have  seen  that  in  the  direct  method 
of  proving  truth,  .[there  is  first  the  exposition  of 
facts,  then  from  these  facts  other  facts  are  inferred 
until  a  general  truth  is  established,  then  from  general 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  77 

truths  particular  truths  are  inferred.  The  indirect 
method  consists  in  showing  all  the  possible  aspects  of 
a  case,  and,  by  a  process  of  elimination,  proving  only  one 
of  them  to  be  true  by  showing  that  the  other  aspects 
lead  to  conclusions  that  are  absurd.  Or  it  consists  in 
refutation  which  analyzes  the  opposed  idea  (1)  by  ex- 
amining the  tendency  of  the  idea,  exposing  the  underly- 
ing principle  of  it,  and  showing  its  natural  outcome,  till 
it  stands  out  in  its  true  light;  (2)  by  showing  that  the 
conclusion  drawn  from  a  premise  does  not  necessarily  fol- 
low, or  that  the  argument  is  not  logical ;  (3)  by  attack- 
ing the  premise  on  which  the  argument  is  founded,  and 
disproving  it  by  showing  that  it  is  not  universal,  or  that 
it  proves  too  much  if  carried  out  to  its  finish ;  (4)  by 
objecting  to  the  circumstances  offered  for  proof,  as  not 
conclusive  enough,  not  in  sufficient  number,  or  that  an 
example  used  is  not  a  parallel,  or  that  what  was  re- 
garded as  a  cause  was  only  a  coincidence ;  (5)  by  dis- 
crediting some  testimony  or  authority,  or  by  bring- 
ing out  counter  testimony  or  authority;  (6)  by  applying 
the  principles  used  by  the  opponent  to  more^familiar 
subjects,  and  showing  that  they  lead  to  conclusions  not 
tenable.  The  strength  of  refutation  should  correspond 
with  the  strength  of  the  opponent's  position,  no  more 
effort  being  used  than  is  necessary  to  refute,  or  to  dis- 
lodge an  erroneous  idea  from  the  minds^of  hearers  or 
readers.  The  best  refutation  discovers  and  attacks  the 
central  error  in  the  opponent's  position,  and  that  fall- 
ing, all  others  fall/of  themselves.  Refutation  is  often 
used  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  new  and  direct  argument, 
because  the  negative  or  destructive  effect  of  refuta- 
tion needs  to  be  balanced  by  constructive  argument, 


78  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

DIRECTIONS  TO  READERS. — Have  an  open  mind,  free 
from  prejudice,  and  a  fair  and  honest  attitude  towards 
the  question,  ready  to  be  convinced  if  the  argument  is 
sufficient.     Set  aside  preconceived  ideas  for  the  time, 
that  the  argument  may  have  its  full  effect.     Pay  special 
attention  to  the  statement  of  the  question.     Keep  in 
mind  the  exact  point  at  issue,  its  extent  and  limita- 
tions.    Keep    on   guard   to    detect   fallacies,   or    that 
whichr_may  weaken  the   argument.     Fallacies  may  be 
in  alleged  facts;  in  the  use  of   terms,  orvin  reasoning. 
Watch  to  see  if   the  evidence  is  consistent  with  ordi- 
nary experience  and  with  known  facts,  and  see  if  it  is 
consistent  with  itself.     See  if  there  is  a  lack  of  defini- 
tion  of   terms,  so  that   words  could    be  mistaken   in 
meaning,  or  even  used  in  more  than  one  sense.     See  if 
there  are  unwarranted  assertions,  or  assertions  unsup- 
ported by  fact.     See  if  a  conclusion  is  drawn  from  in- 
stances too  few  or  too   unimportant.     See   if  there  is 
any  begging   of   the  question,   or   arguing  beside  the 
point  which  is  an  attempt  to  prove  what  is  not  in  the 
question.     See   if  there  is  any  shifting  of  ground,  or 
any  tendency  to  stop  arguing  the  point  and  to  appeal 
to  the  sensibilities  and  interests  and  prejudices  of  the 
reader  or  hearer,  to  make  him  forget  logic.     Is  time  used 
on  trivial  points  to  distract  attention  from  the  main 
issue?     Do  the  arguments  really  outweigh  any  oppos- 
ing theory,  or  is  the  reader  or   hearer   influenced  by 
graces  of  style?    Judicial  balance  of  .mind  is  rare,  but 
by  regarding  these    directions  one  should    be  a  fairly 
good  judge  of  argument.     The  great  orations  of  litera- 
ture, such  as  Burke 's  Conciliation  with  the  American  Colo- 
nies*   furnish  the  best  models  of   argumentative   dis- 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  79 

course  for  readers ;  but  it  is  as  a  judge  of  oral  argument, 
in  some  debate  or  speech,  that  a  student  will  find  these 
directions  most  useful. 


— o- 


Poetry. — Poetry  is  the  expression  of  passionate 
emotion  in  metrical  language. 

THE  LITERATURE  OF  EMOTION.— The  theme 
of  poetry  is  always  something  which  stirs  the  emotions. 
Poetry  reveals  the  soul  of  the  writer  rather  than  his 
mind.  The  writer  seems  to  be  enthralled  by  his  sub- 
ject, and  the  reader's  pleasure  consists  in  getting 
enthralled  with  him.  The  reader  feels  the  perfect 
abandon  of  the  writer  to  his  feelings,  and  the  pleasure 
of  reading  poetry  is  the  pleasure  in  sharing  in  this 
abandon  of  feeling.  The  reading  of  poetry  develops 
the  emotional  nature,  and  poetry  is  enjoyed  more  and 
more  as  the  emotional  nature  is  developed.  The  reader 
values  poetry  in  proportion  to  the  rank  which  he  gives 
to  the  emotions  among  the  human  faculties. 

LANGUAGE  MUSIC.— A  rhythmical  movement  of 
some  kind  always  accompanies  deeply-stirred  feeling. 
Wherever  there  is  something  deep  and  good  in  the 
meaning,  the  reader  will  find  rhythmical  and  strongly- 
accented  language.  When  passion  rises  to  its  greatest 
height,  the  accent  is  heard  at  regularly  recurring  in- 
tervals, and  this  is  called  metrical  language.  The 
mood  of  the  writer  makes  him  instinctively  choose 
such  words  and  arrange  them  in  such  order  that  the 
effect  upon  the  ear  suggests  the  mood.  The  poet  is  an 
artist  in  sound.  He  has  learned  the  tone-value  of  con- 


80  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

sonants  and  of  vowels,  and  how  effects  may  be  pro- 
duced by  them.  He  has  an  ear  for  sound-series,  or 
sequences  of  sound,  and  so  knows  how  to  make  language 
have  correspondences  of  sound  at  regular  intervals, 
which  produce  the  effect  of  tune.  He  has  also  an  ear 
for  the  accents  of  wrords,  and  the  sense  for  time  in 
movement,  and  so  he  instinctively  chooses  words  the 
accents  of  which  make  the  voice  rise  and  fall  in  regular 
beats.  There  are  poems  which  convey  a  simple  idea 
with  a  simple  tune;  other  poems  express  such  exalted 
feeling  that  words  give  a  rather  vague  meaning,  and 
the  language-music  is  a  complicated  harmony,  like 
that  of  an  ode.  The  reading  of  poetry  is  for  pleasure. 
The  rhythmic  scheme  furnishes  as  much  interest  as  the 
theme  of  the  poem  does.  The  swing  of  the  tune  is 
the  musical  accompaniment  of  the  idea.  It  is  the  in- 
dication of  the  writer's  pulse,  and  unless  the  reader's 
pulse  takes  the  same  beat,  and  the  reader  allows  him- 
self to  sway  with  the  tune,  he  does  not  get  the  full 
pleasure  of  reading  metrical  composition.  Poetry 
should  be  read  aloud,  for  the  effect  of  the  music  is 
likely  to  be  lost  in  silent  reading. 

PICTURESQUE  LITERATURE. —The  imagination 
of  the  poet  makes  his  theme  take  the  form  of  pictures 
in  his  own  mind,  and  he  expresses  what  he  has  to  say 
mainly  by  making  objects  pass  before  the  reader's  eye. 
These  pictures  suggest  the  poet's  idea  or  feeling.  The 
attraction  of  poetry  is  largely  this  quality  of  suggest- 
iveness,  leaving  something  for  the  reader  to  fill  out. 
This  use  of  pictures  is  called  the  imagery  of  poetry. 
It  takes  the  form  of  descriptions,  epithets,  comparisons, 
and  what  are  called  figures  of  speech. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  81 

THE  LITERATURE  OF  THE  SENSES.— The  ap- 
peal which  poetry  makes  to  the  ear  by  its  music,  and 
to  the  eye  by  its  suggestive  pictures,  and  the  use 
which  the  poet  makes  of  words  expressing  colors,  odors, 
flavors,  sounds,  and  all  effects  upon  the  physical 
senses,  gives  poetry  a  quality  called  sensuous.  The 
reader  whose  physical  senses  are  acute,  and  who  de- 
rives pleasure  from  their  gratification,  will  enjoy  poetry 
largely  for  its  sensuous  quality. 

IDEAL  LANGUAGE.— The  language  of  •  poetry 
differs  from  the  language  of  ordinary  conversation,  and 
so  affords  delightful  surprise's  in  the  way  of  peculiar 
phrases  and  expressions.  The  poet  shuns  conventional 
or  stock  phrases,  and  aims  at  grace  of  expression. 
Moreover,  poetry  has  the  great  merit  of  condensation. 
Excited  feeling  hastens  to  the  point,  and  so  words 
which  have  the  greatest  significance  are  chosen  in 
order  to  secure  brevity.  The  language  of  poetry  is 
also  free  and  bold  in  its  adaptation  of  old  words  to  new 
uses,  and  in  artistic  violations  of  syntax,  called  poetic 
license.  Part  of  the  pleasure  of  reading  poetry,  then, 
is  a  study  of  its  diction,  thereby  getting  a  new  light 
upon  the  pliancy  and  adaptability  of  words. 

Versification. — A  reader  needs  to  know  only  a 
little  about  the  science  of  verse.1  The  following  ele- 
mentary facts  constitute  a  sufficient  basis  for  apprecia- 
tive reading  of  poetic  form. 

THE  FOOT.— The  basis  of  versification  is  that 
words  have  accented  and  unaccented  syllables,  and  that 

*A  full  treatment  of  the  subject  may  be  found  in  Science  of 
English  Verse*. — Lanier . 


82  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

every  word  of  more  than  one  syllable  has  at  least  one 
accent :  delight  is  accented  on  the  second  syllable  ;  mur- 
muring, on  the  first:  unpremeditated,  on  the  first,  third, 
and  fifth ;  impetuous,  though  having  four  syllables,  may 
be  so  pronounced  as  to  have  upon  the  ear  the  effect  of 
three,  its  accent  on  the  second.  In  the  line 

" Beneath  |  the  burn  |  ing  east  |  ern  sky  |  " 

the  accent  of  the  words  plainly  makes  the  line  divide 
into  four  groups  of  two  syllables  each,  accent  on  the 
second  syllable.  Sometimes  all  the  words  in  a  line  are 
monosyllables ;  but  in  a  succession  of  words  of  one 
syllable,  some  words  are  naturally  more  emphasized 
than  others,  and  so  even  monosyllables  can  be  ar- 
ranged to  give  the  effect  of  accent.  In  the  line  which 
follows  the  one  just  quoted — 

"The  cross  |  was  raised  |  at  morn  |  " 

the  voice  naturally  accents  the  second,  fourth,  and 
sixth  words.  So,  this  line,  too,  divides  into  groups  of 
two  syllables,  accent  on  the  second  syllable.  In  poetry 
there  is  a  combination  of  accented  words  and  mono- 
syllables, so  arranged  that  the  accents  of  the  accented 
words,  and  the  reader's  natural  tendency  to  accent 
some  monosyllables  more  than  others,  will  make,  the 
voice  rise  and  fall  at  regular  intervals. 

"I  know  |    not  where  |    his  is  |  lands  lift  | 

Their  fron  |  ded  palms  |  in  air,  | 
I  on  |  ly  know  |    I  can  |  not  drift  | 

Beyond  |  His  love  |  and  care.  |  " — Whittier. 

In  this  stanza  there  are  only  five  words  of  more  than 
one  syllable,  or  five  accented  words,  and  yet  the  whole 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  83 

stanza  naturally  divides  into  groups  of  two  syllables 
each,  accent  on  the  second  syllable.  The  five  words 
having  accent  are  so  placed  that  the  accented  syllable 
of  each  word  fits  in  with  the  regular  time-scheme. 

In  English  poetry,  the  accent  comes  at  every  sec- 
ond or  third  syllable.  The  group  composed  of  one  ac- 
cented syllable  and  one  lighter  syllable,  or  two  lighter 
syllables,  is  called  a  metrical  foot.  In  beating  time, 
the  beat  comes  on  the  accented  syllable,  and  so  the 
foot  is  sometimes  called  the  beat.  It  corresponds  with 
the  bar  in  music,  and  is  sometimes  called  by  that 
name.  The  regular  and  continuous  recurrence  of  the 
foot  is  one  element  of  rhythm,  but  it  is  only  a  part  of 
the  whole  metrical  scheme. 

KINDS  OF  METRICAL  FEET. — The  character  of  the 
rhythm  depends  partly  upon  the  composition  of  the 
foot.  Four  kinds  of  metrical  feet  are  common  in 
English  verse ;  namely,  the  iambus,  the  anapest,  the 
trochee,  the  dactyl. 

The  iambus  is  composed  of  two  syllables,  accent 
on  the  last : — 

"The  west  |  ern  waves  |  of  ebb  |  ing  day  |  " — Scott. 
The  iambus  is  the  most  common  foot,  being  suited  to 
all  kinds  of  poetic  feeling.  It  is  especially  adapted  to 
narrative  and  dramatic  poetry.  Our  greatest  poems 
have  this  rhythm. 

The  anapest  is  composed  of  three  syllables,  accent 
on  the  last : — 

• 'I  am  mon  |  arch  of  all  |    I  survey.  |  " — Cowper. 
The  anapest,  by  its  sweeping  movement,  is  suited  to 
excited   feeling.     It  is  usually  found   in  combination 
with  the  iambus,  pleasantly  breaking  the  monotony: — 


84  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

"And  the  state  |  ly  ships  |     go  on  | 

To  their  ha  |  ven  mi  |  der  the  hill.  |  " 

— Tennyson. 

The  trochee  is  composed  of  two  syllables,  accent  on 
the  first: — 

"Every  |  moment  |  lightly  |  shaken  |  ran   it  |  self   in  | 
golden  |  sands." — Tennyson. 

The  effect  of  the  trochee  is  that  of  light  and  rapid 
movement,  suited  for  exhilarated  feeling,  and  for  such 
narrative  as  that  of  Hiawatha. 

The  dactyl  is  composed  of  three  syllables,  accent 
on  the  first:— 

"Hail  to  the  |  chief  who  in  |  triumph  ad  |  vances." 

-  Scott . 

The  dactyl  has  a  bounding  movement,  and  is  most 
effective  in  combination  with  the  trochee ;  as 

"Blossomed   the  |  lovely  |  stars,  the   for  |  get-me-  | 
nots  of  the  |    angels." — Longfellow. 

In  the  usual  metrical  scheme,  one  kind  of  foot  con- 
tinues throughout  the  poem,  or  there  is  a  prevailing 
foot,  with  occasional  substitutions  of  other  feet.  An 
intentional  irregularity  often  adds  to  melody  and  vig- 
orous effect.  The  irregularity  of  the  following  stanza 
is  part  of  its  charm  :— 
"When  the  hounds  |  of  spring  |  are  on  Win  |  ter's 

trac  |  es, 

The  moth  |  er  of  months  |    in  mead  |  ow  or  plain  | 
Fills  |    the  shad  |  ows  and  wind  |  y  pla  |  ces 
With  lisp  |  of  leaves  |  and  rip  |  pie  of  rain.  |  ' 

— Swinburne. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  85 

Sometimes  the  foot  changes  at  the  turn  of   the  line. 
The  effect  of  ebbing  and  flowing  tides  is  felt  in  the 
change  of  foot  at  the  turn,  in  the  following  lines,  en- 
titled Memory. 
"This  hour  |  the  fate  |  ful  tide  |  runs  up  |  the  beach,  | 

As  the  sea  |    wills  it;  | 

It  seeks  |  each  hoi  |  low  loved  |  of  yes  |  terday,  | 
Finds  it  and  |  fills  it.  |  " — Meredith  Nicholson. 
IRREGULAR  ACCENT.— Every  foot,  of  course,  has  one 
accented  syllable,  and  when  each  foot  has  the  same 
number  of  unaccented  syllables,  the  verse  is  said  to  be 
regular.  Very  little  verse  is  regular.  There  is  an  in- 
tentional irregularity,  as  seen  in  the  stanzas  last 
quoted,  but  there  is  a  careless  or  awkward  irregularity 
that  mars  the  effect.  Irregularities,  which  mayor  may 
not  be  defects,  consist  in  an  incomplete  foot  at  the 
beginning  or  end  of  the  line,  accent  thrown  on  some 
word  not  naturally  accented,  and  more  than  two  light 
syllables  in  a  foot,  requiring  the  syllables  to  be  slurred, 
or  pronounced  rapidly.  The  line 

"But  I  |  goon  |  for  ev  |  er" 

is  irregular  because  of  incomplete  last  foot,  and  would 
be  a  defect  if  the  irregularity  did  not  occur  regularly. 
The  line 

"I  find  |  him  wor  |  thier  to  |  be  loved" 
is  irregular,  because  in    the  third  foot  the   accent  is 
thrown  on  the  word  to;  and,   since  all  the  rest  of  the 
stanza  is  strictly  iambic,  this  third  foot  requires  slur- 
ring. 

The  reader  does  not  pay  much  attention  to  separate 
feet,  but  tries  to  get  the  general  movement  of  the 
whole,  which  can  be  done  only  be  getting  the  swing  of 


86  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

the  whole  stanza,   instead  of  trying  to  get  it  from  a 
single  line. 

THE  VERSE.— Another  important  part  of  the 
metrical  scheme  is  a  different  and  a  longer  swing  than 
that  afforded  by  the  accent  of  words.  This  is  secured 
by  making  the  succession  of  feet  turn  back  at  regular 
intervals,  dividing  feet  into  groups  called  lines  or 
verses.  VA  verse  is  a  single  line  of  poetry;  the  use  of 
the  term  verse  as  equivalent  to  stanza  in  provincial. 
The  rhythm  made  by  the  regularly  recurring  accent  is 
thus  measured  into  regular  lengths,  or  into  regularly 
varying  lengths,  and  this  makes  another  kind  of 
rhythm,  and  another  element  of  the  metrical  scheme. 

THE  TIME  SCHEME. — The  measuring  of  sound  into 
feet  and  verses  makes  what  is  called  the  metre  of 
poetry,  and  constitutes  the  time-scheme  of  word-music. 
The  turn  which  constitutes  the  verse  may  come  after 
the  second  beat,  or  foot,  or  the  succession  of  feet  may 
run  on  for  six  or  eight  beats.  In  speaking  of  the  time- 
scheme  of  a  poem,  the  time  effect  produced  by  the 
regular  turns  of  the  verses  is  named  by  the  classical 
names  -  monometer  for  one  beat,  dimeter  for  two,  tri- 
meter for  three,  tetrameter  for  four,  pentameter  for 
five,  hexameter  for  six,  heptameter  for  seven,  octameter 
for  eight.  Or  the  time-scheme  may  be  named  by  the 
number  of  beats — as,  three  beats  to  the  measure,  four 
beats  to  the  measure,  abbreviated  to  3's,  4's.  The 
verse 

"The  splen  |  dor  falls  I  on  cas  I  tie  walls  I  " 

is  described  as  iambic  tetrameter,  or  it   may  be   de- 
scribed as  iambic  measure,  four  beats  to  the  measure. 


THt  READER'S  FIELD  87 

Any  incomplete  foot  that  has  the  accented  syllable  is 
counted  as  a  foot.  The  verse 

"  What  a  |  gush  of  |  eupho  |  ny  vo  |  lumi  |  nously  | 
swells" 

is  counted  as  heptameter,  or  seven-accent  line.     The 

verse 

"Not  once  |  or  twice  |  in  our  |  rough  is  |  land  sto  |  ry" 

having  the  incomplete  foot  unaccented,  or  having  what 
is  called  a  light  syllable  at  the  end,  is  counted  as  pen- 
tameter. The  time  effect  has  a  very  simple  regularity 
if  the  verses  are  all  of  the  same  length.  But  a  variety 
of  verse  lengths,  well-balanced  into  a  less  obvious  reg- 
ularity, produces  a  variety  in  the  swing  which  is  a 
pleasing  effect.  The  following  stanza  illustrates  a  very 
simple  time  scheme': — 

"Let  knowl  |  edge  grow  |  from  more  |  to  more,  | 
But  more  |  of  rev  |  erence  in  |  us  dwell ;  | 
That  mind  |  and  soul  |  acQord  |  ing  well,  | 
May  make  |  one  mu  |  sic  as  |  before.  |  ' 

— Tennyson. 

The  following  stanza  has  a  slight  variety,  having  a 
three-accent  line  alternate  with  a  two-accent  line:  — 

"The  night  |  has  a  thous  |  and  eyes,  | 

And  the  day  |  but  one ;  | 
Yet  the  light  |  of  the  bright  |  world  dies  | 
With  the  set  |  ting  sun.  |  " — Bourdillon. 

In  Meredeth  Nicholson's  dedication  of  his  Poems  to 
James  Whitcomb  Riley,  there  is  a  plea'sing  time 
scheme :  — 


88  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

"You  came  |  when  song  |  itself  |  was  tame,  | 
Though  man  |  y  strove  |  with  i  |  die  aim  | 
Like  moths  |  about  |  the  sa  |  cred  flame  | 

On  ig  |  nprant  wing;  | 

You  scorned,  |  in  beat  |  en  trails  |  of  fame,  | 
To  walk  |  and  sing.  |  ' 

Length  of  line  is  capable  of  infinite  combinations,  and 
makes  time-schemes  of  infinite  variety. 

STANDARD  LINES. -The  standard  English  line  is  the 
Iambic  Pentameter.  This  is  the  measure  of  heroic  verse, 
like  Pope's  translation  of  the  Iliad',  of  epic  blank  or 
unrhymed  verse,  like  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King;  and 
of  dramatic  blank  verse,  like  that  of  Shakespeare's 
plays,  although  in  dramatic  blank  verse  there  is  an 
extra  unaccented  syllable  at  .the  end.  The  Iambic 
Tetrameter,  an  easy  measure,  is  generally  adopted  for 
narrative  poetry.  The  Ballad  Measure  is  iambic  tetram- 
eter alternated  with  trimeter.  The  Alexandrine,  which 
is  iambic  hexameter,,  and  the  Dactylic  Hexameter,  are 
celebrated  measures. 

THE  RHYME  SCHEME.— The  end  or  turn  of  the  verse 
needs  to  be  strongly  marked  in  order  to  emphasize 
the  time-scheme.  The  turn  of  the  verse  may  coin- 
cide with  the  completion  of  a  grammatical  phrase  or 
clause,  and  then  the  sense  leads  one  to  make  a  pause 
which  serves  to  mark  the  turn  of  the  time-measure. 
But  frequently  the  sense  is  wholly  independent  of  the 
time  scheme,  the  sense  running^over^from'jme  verse 
into  the  next,  and  even  from  one  stanza  over  into 
the  next.  The  means  generally  used  to  mark^the  turn 
is  a  correspondence  of  sound  called  rhyme.  The  sound 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  89 

recurrence,  identical  with  the  turn  of  the  verse,  not 
only  serves  to  mark  the  time,  but  makes  another 
rhythm,  and  is  thus  a  third  element  in  the  metrical 
scheme. 

In  rhyming  couplets,  such  as— 

"The  summer  dawn's  reflected  hue 
To  purple  changed  Loch  Katrine's  blue. 
Mildly  and  soft  the  western  breeze 
Just  kissed  the  lake,  just  stirred  the  trees." 

— Scott. 

the  rhyme  merely  serves  to  punctuate  the  time,  and 
does  not  furnish  an  additional  rhythm.  But  in  the 
stanza — 

"Enjoy  the  spring  of  Love  and  Youth, 
To  some  good  angel  leave  the  rest ; 
For  Time  will  teach  thee  soon  the  truth, 
There  are  no  birds  in  last  year's  nest!" 

—Longfellow. 

the  alternating  rhymes,  continued  through  several 
stanzas,  not  only  punctuate  the  recurring  four  beats, 
but  make  a  slight  rhythm  of  their  own,  and  form  a 
very  simple  rhyme-scheme.  The  rhyme-scheme  is  de- 
scribed by  using  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  the  repe- 
tition of  a  letter  designating  the  recurrence  of  the 
rhyming  syllable,  and  each  new  rhyming  syllable  tak- 
ing a  new  letter. .  This  is  called  the  rhyming  formula. 
The  metrical  scheme  of  the  stanza  quoted  above  is 
described  as  abab,  four  iambic  4's.  The  rhyme- 
scheme  may  vary  from  the  simple  form  in  which  there 
are  only  two  rhyming  syllables,  to  a  rhyme-scheme  in 
which  six  or  more  rhymes  a're  intricately  combined 


90  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

with  the  effect  of  a  rich  chord.  For  instance,  the  fol- 
lowing rhyme-scheme  found  in  the  Choric  Song  of  the 
Lotos-Eaters,  by  Tennyson,  has  only  four  rhymes,  but 
they  recur  with  a  beautifully  balanced  rhythm : — 

aaabebbeedcdc 

In  Tennyson's  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, the  sound  of  the  vowel  o  is  heard  at  the  end  of 
lines  4,  <?,?,  10,11,12,  15.16,17,18..  21,  making  in  itself  a 
rhythm  entirely  distinct  from  the  rhythm  ofthe  time- 
scheme. 

RULE  FOR  RHYME.— Rhyme  is  based  wholly  on  sound, 
not  on  spelling.  Correct  rhyme  requires  that,  in  the 
rhymes,  the  last  accented  vowel  and  all  that  follows  shall 
be  identical  in  sound,  and  that  each  shall  be  preceded 
by  a  different  consonant  sound — as,  home,  roam;  cunning, 
running.  Inexact  rhymes  are  occasionally  found,  such 
as  heaven,  given,  but  they  mar  the  rhythm. 

MIDDLE  RHYME. -A  rhyme  within  the  line,  called 
middle  rhyme,  is  a  pleasing  variation ;  as  - 

"Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul" 

ALLITERATION.— The  near  recurrence  of  the  same  in- 
itial sound,  called  alliteration,  was  formerly  the  only 
kind  of  rhyme,  and  is  still  used  effectively.  The  effect 
of  it  may  be  seen  in  The  Raven,  by  Poe,  where  there  are 
many  such  expressions  as — while  I  nodded  nearly  nap- 
ping, rare  and  radiant  maiden,  floating  on  the  floor, 
startled  at  the  stillness,  stepped  a  stately  Raven, 
grim,  ungainly,  ghastly,  gaunt. 

ASSONANCE.— This  is  another  rhyme  effect,  which 
consists  of  a  noticeable  recurrence  of  strong  vowel 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  91 

• 

sounds  within  the  lines.  The  frequent  repetition  of 
the  vowel  o  may  be  heard  throughout  the  following 
lines  as  well  as  in  the  end-rhymes:  — 

"And  the  sound  of  the  sorrowing  anthem  roll'd 

Thro'  the  dome  of  the  golden  cross ; 

And  the  volleying  cannon  thunder  hie  loss ; 

He  knew  their  voices  of  old." 

THE  REFRAIN. -The  effect  of  rhyme  is  also  pro- 
duced by  a  refrain,  which  is  a  repetition  of  certain 
words,  or  perhaps  a  line  or  two,  at  certain  intervals ;  for 
instance,  in  A  Life  Lesson,  by  James  Whitcomb  Riley, 
the  repetition  of  the  line— 

"There!    little  girl;    don't  cry!" 

Or  in  Tennyson's  Ode  on  the  Death  of  Wellington,  the 
three  repetitions,  in  one  stanza,  of  the  line— 

"The  path  of  duty  was  the  way  to  glory" 
UNRHYMED  VERSE.— The  turn  of  the  verse  is.  usually 
made  to  correspond  with  a  natural  break  in  the  sense, 
and  in  that  case  it  seems  appropriate  that  the  end  words 
should  rhyme;    as 
"Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 

And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 
Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds.". 

— Gray. 

Such  ending  of  a  clause  at  the  end  of  the  line  is  called 
end-stops.  However,  the  metrical  scheme  frequently 
does  not  match  with  the  grammatical  clause.  This  is 
desirable,  since  the  natural  pauses  where  grammatical 
phrases  end,  make  still  another  rhythm  that  is  a  sort 
of  undertone  to  the  main  time-scheme.  When  the  sense 


92  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

• 

runs  over  from  one  line  into  the  next,  verse  is  usually 
without  rhyme,  measured  off  into  iambic  pentam- 
eter. The  characteristic  feature  of  such  verse  is  the 
Ccesura.  A  pause  anywhere  within  the  verse,  usually 
between  the  syllables  of  a  foot,  caused  by  the  end  of  a 
grammatical  phrase  or  clause,  is  called  the  caesura. 
These  shifting  pauses  make  a  subtle  rhythm.  The  fol- 
lowing examples  illustrate  the  caesural  pause  :  - 

"Thus  Satan :  II  talking  to  his  nearest  mate, 
With  head  uplift  above  the  wave,  II  and  eyes 

That  sparkling  blazed.  II " 

—Milton . 

"She  sang  tonight,  II  and  in  her  voice  1  heard 
Those  whispers  II  and  those  voices  II  and  beheld 
The  fairy  lights,  II  and  from  the  plaintive  shore 
Saw  wave  and  star  commune.  I!      She  does  not  know 
How  in  her  eyes  the  ancient  marvels  burn,  II 
Or  that  the  dreams  flow  in  her  blood  like  stars 
On  quiet  floods  by  night.  II  There  at  the  harp  II 
Her  voice  caught  up  the  centuries  in  a  song 
As  old  as  heartache  II  and  as  young  as  morn." 

—Meredith  Nicholson. 

THE  STANZA.— The  stanza  in  poetry  corresponds 
with  the  paragraph  in  prose.  It  usually  represents  a 
complete  idea  and  a  complete  metrical  scheme.  Taste 
for  stanza  form  is  cultivated  by  observation  of  every 
new  form  one  meets  in  reading,  observation  consisting 
in  attention  to  the  prevailing  foot  and  its  variations, 
the  rhyme-scheme,  and  the  time-scheme.  There  is  in- 
finite variety  in  the  way  these  rhythms  may  be  com- 
bined, from  the  simple  melody  of  the  rhyming  couplet, 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  93 

to  the  intricate  harmony  of  the  strophes  of  an  ode. 
Although  there  maybe  a  new  metrical  scheme  in  every 
stanza,  the  same  scheme  is  generally  continued  from 
stanza  to  stanza.  The  stanza  itself,  then,  makes  an- 
other rhythm,  for  it  is  another  "turning,"  like  the 
verse,  the  metrical  scheme  beginning  over  again  in  the 
next  stanza.  Thus  the  metrical  scheme  of  the  whole 
poem  consists  of  the  rhythmical  succession  of  accented 
and  unaccented  syllables,  of  corresponding  verse 
measures,  of  corresponding  rhymes,  and  of  correspond- 
ing stanza  forms.  Innumerable  rhythmic  shadings  and 
variations  correct  the  mechanical  effect  of  poetic  regu- 
larity. In  the  best  poems  there  is  a  nice  correspond- 
ence between  the  character  of  the  metrical  scheme 
and  the  character  of  the  thought,  the  detection  of 
which  makes  one  of  the  greatest  pleasures  in  reading 
poetry. 

The  following  stanza,  or  strophe,  from    The  Lotos- 
Eaters,  by  Tennyson,  illustrates  stanza  construction. 

Time    Rhyme 
Scheme  Scheme 

"There  is  sweet  music  here  that  softer  falls  5  a 

Than  petals  from  blown  roses  on  the  grass,  5  b 

Or  night-dews  on  stilj  waters  between  walls  5  a 

Of  shadowy  granite,  in  a  gleaming  pass ;  5  b 

Music  that  gentlier  on  the  spirit  lies,  5  c 

Than  tir'd  eyelids  upon  tir'd  eyes  ;  5  c 
Music  that  brings  sweet  sleep  down  from  the 

blissful  skies.  6  c 

Here  are  cool  mosses  deep,  3  d 

And  thro'  the  moss  the  ivies  creep,  4  d 
And  in  the  stream  the  long-leaved  flowers 

weep,  5  d 
And  from  the  craggy  ledge  the  poppy  hangs 

in  sleep/'  6  d 


94  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

This  stanza  has  a  well  balanced  construction.  Be- 
ginning with  alternate  rhymes  and  five-beat  measure, 
suggestive  of  the  music  which  is  being  described,  grow- 
ing emphasis  is  made,  as  the  sense  rounds  to  the  period, 
by  three  successive  rhymes,  and  by  the  expansion  of 
the  five-beat  measure  into  a  six-beat  line.  Then  the 
final  climax  is  made  by  repeating  a  new  rhyme  four 
times,  while  the  time  scheme  rises  in  climax  from  three 
beats,  to  four,  then  five,  then  six. 

STANZAiFoRMS. — There  are  a  few  stanza  forms  which 
everyone  is  expected  to  know  by  name, 

Hymn  Stanzas  which  are  irregular  are  marked  by 
the  number  of  syllables  to  the  line,  as  7s,  or  6s,  4s.  The 
regular  hymn  stanzas  are  known  as:— 

Long  Metre. 

"Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve,  4  a 

For  without  thee  I  cannot  live  ;  4  a 

Abide  with  me  when  night  is  nigh  4  b 

For  without  thee  I  dare  not  die."  4  b 

—John  Keble. 

The  rhyme  may  also  be  abab,  or  abba. 

Common  Metre. 

"When  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God,  4 

My  rising  soul  surveys,  3      a 

Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost  4 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise."  3      a 

—Joseph  Addison^ 
The  rhyme  may  also  be  abab. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  95 

Short  Metre. 

"Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds  3  a 

Our  hearts  in  Christian  love  ;  3  b 

The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds  4  a 

Is  like  to  that  above."  3  b 

— John  Fawcett. 

Hallelujah  Metre. 

"Rejoice,  the  Lord  is  King!  3  a 

Your  Lord  and  King  adore  ;  3  b 

Mortals,  give  thanks  and  sing,  3  a 

And  triumph  evermore ;  3  b 

Lift  up  your  hearts,  lift  up  your  voice ;  4  c 

Rejoice,  again  I  say,  rejoice."  4  c 

—  Charles  Wesley. 

The  Elegiac  Stanza  is  characterized  by  a  longer 
line  of  iambics  and  quiet  movement:  — 

"The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day,  5  a 

The  lowing  herd  wind  slowly  o'er  the  lea,  5  b 

The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way,  5  a 

And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me."  5  b 

—Gray. 

The  Spenserian  Stanza,  the  measure  of  Spenser's 
Faerie  Queene,&nd  still  used  for  stately  verse,  is  a  stanza 
of  nine  lines,  eight  of  them  iambic  pentameter,  and 
the  ninth  an  Alexandrine,with  a  peculiar  rhyme-scheme. 
A  good  modern  example  of  it  is  found  in  Shelley's 
Adonais,  an  elegy  on  the  death  of  John  Keats :— 


96  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

"O,  weep  for  Adonais-  he  is  dead!                           5  a 

Wake  melancholy  mother,  wake  and  weep !        5  b 

Yet  wherefore?  Quench  within  thy  burning  bed  5  a 

Thy  fiery  tears,  and  let  thy  loud  heart  keep,       5  b 

Like  his,  a  mute  and  uncomplaining  sleep ;         5  b 

For  he  he  is  gone  where  all  things  wise  and  fair    5  c 

Descend  : — oh  dream  not  that  the  amorous  deep  5  b 

Will  yet  restore  him  to  the  vital  air ;                    5  c 
Death  feeds  on  his  mute  voice,  and  laughs  at  our 

despair."                                                             6  c 

—Shelley. 

The  sonnet  is  classed  as  a  stanza  form'although  it  is 
a  complete  poem.  But  a  sequence  of  sonnets  may 
take  the  form  of  a  single  poem ;  such  as,  Mrs.  Brown- 
ing's Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,  and  Rossetti's  House  of 
Life.  The  sonnet  consists  of  fourteen  lines  of  iambic, 
pentameter.  It  is  of  Italian  origin,  and  the  original 
form  consists  of  two  parts,  octave  and  sestette,  and 
four,  or  not  more  than  five  different  rhymes  arranged 
thus:— 

abbaabba  II  cdcdcd 
or 
II  cdeede 

The  Italian  sonnet  was  required  to  have  a  pause  in  the 
sense  at  the  end  of  the  octave.  English  poets  have 
varied  the  Italian  form,  especially  the  rhyme  of  the 
sestette,  and  they  sometimes  allow  the  sense  to  go  on 
without  break  from  the  octave  to  the  sestette.  The 
Shakespearian  sonnet  is  entirely  different  from  the 
Italian  model ;  its  form  is  — 

ababcdcdefefyg  ^g 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  97 

Such  a  sonnet  is  properly  called  a  "fourteener".  The 
sonnet  is  intended  to  be  a  poetical  unit,  single  in  its 
effect,  expressing  one  idea,  usually  a  reflection,  a  query, 
a  desire,  or  a  vision.  The  great  sonnet  writers  are 
Milton,  Wordsworth,  and  Keats.  The  modern  sonnet 
writers  adhere  more  closely  to  the  Italian  model.  The 
strict  Italian  form  is  illustrated  by  the  following  son- 
net, entitled  "Dusk." 


"The  frightened  herds  of  clouds  across  the  sky  a 

Trample  the  sunshine  down,  and  chase  the  day  b 

Into  the  dusky  forest-lands  of  gray  b 

And  sombre  twilight.     Far,  and  faint,  and  high,  a 

The  wild  goose  trails  his  harrow,  with  a  cry  a 

Sad  as  the  wail  of  some  poor  castaway  b 

Who  sees  a  vessel  drifting  far  astray  b 

Of  his  last  hope,  and  lays  him  down  to  die.  a 

The  children,  riotous  from -school,  grow  bold,  c 

And  quarrel  with  the  wind,  whose  angry  gust  d 

Plucks  off  the  summer-hat,  and  flaps  the  fold  c 

Of  many  a  crimson  cloak,  and  twirls  the  dust  d 

In  spiral  shapes  grotesque,  and  dims  the  gold  c 

Of  gleaming  tresses  with  the  blur  of  rust."  d 

— James  Whitcomb  Riley. 

Kinds  of  Poetry. — Poetry  is  divided  into  four 
classes  on  the  basis  of  the  four  kinds  of  subject  matter 
with  which  it  deals. 

LYRIC  POETRY.— Lyric  poetry  has  for  its'subject 
matter  the  emotions,  passions,  and  sentiments  of  the 
human  heart.  It  is  the  oldest  form  of  poetry,  and  yet 
it  is  the  most  popular  kind  of  modern  poetry.  The 


98  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

greater  part  of  all  poetry  belongs  to  this  class.  A  great 
variety  of  metrical  scheme  is  found  in  lyric  poetry, 
since,  as  its  name  implies,  the  writer  sings  his  emotion 
to  some  tune  or  metrical  scheme  which  is  the  product 
of  his  own  musical  sense,  and  of  his  mood.  The  metri- 
cal form  of  the  other  classes  of  poetry  is  more  conven- 
tional, and  is  limited  to  a  few  varieties. 

THE  ODE. — If  the  theme  has  dignity,  and  the  emo- 
tion is  exalted,  and  the  structure  is  complex,  the  lyric 
poem  is  called  an  ode.  A  very  complicated  metrical 
scheme,  without  regularity  of  stanza  form,  corresponds 
with  the  great  stress  of  the  emotion.  Some  famous 
odes  are  Milton's  Hymn  on  the  Nativity,  Dryden's  Alexan- 
der's Feast,  Wordsworth's  Ode  on  Intimations  of  Immor- 
tality, Tennyson's  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
and  Lowell's  Harvard  Commemoration  Ode. 

THE  ELEGY  OR  THRENODY. — Dignity  of  theme  and  of 
treatment,  and  considerable  length,  distinguishes  this 
kind  of  lyric  from  other  forms  of  grief  lyrics.  It  is  gen- 
erally a  lament  for  the  death  of  some  person,  or  it  may 
be  any  solemn  or  plaintive  poetry.  The  famous  elegies 
are :  Milton's  Lycidas  (a  lament  for  Edward  King,  Mil- 
ton's fellow  student) ;  Shelley's  Adonais  (in  memory  of 
Keats) ;  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam  (in  memory  of  Arthur 
Hallam)  ;  Arnold's  Thyrsis  (in  memory  of  Arthur  Hugh 
Olough).  Gray's  famous  elegy  expresses  reflections 
aroused  by  a  country  church-yard.  Bryant's  Ihanatopsis 
is  also  classed  as  elegiac  poetry. 

EPIC  POETRY.— Epic  poetry  is  narrative  poetry. 
Its  subject  matter  is  some  tradition  or  myth,  the  folk- 
tales clustering  around  some  hero,  some  national  belief 
or  ideal,  a  bit  of  history,  fictitious  romance,  or  simple 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  99 

incident.  The  measure  of  the  epic  is  uniform,  follow- 
ing some  conventional  standard.  Epic  poetry  belongs 
to  primitive  life.  Its  chief  characteristic  is  that  it 
exalts  the  single  hero,  reciting  his  adventurous  feats 
and  physical  combats.  Modern  life  gives  little  oppor- 
tunity for  the  epic,  since  a  complex  social  organism 
creates  fewer  heroes,  and  the  strife  of  life  is  intellectual 
and  spiritual.  The  epic  has  been  largely  superseded 
by  the  prose  romance  and  prose  tales. 

THE  GRAND  EPIC. — The  grand  epic,  sometimes 
called  folk-epic  because  it  is  a  unified  group  of  folk- 
tales, is  a  recital  of  some  great  and  heroic  enterprise, 
participated  in  by  heroic  men  and  supernatural  beings 
under  the  control  of  a  sovereign  Deity.  It  gives  the 
reader  a  sense  of  the  mysterious,  the  awful,  and  sub- 
lime. It  has  a  well-constructed  plot  and  is  stately  in 
measure .  It  usually  expresses  some  fundamental  belief 
of  a  race  or  nation.  Almost  every  division  of  the  human 
race  has  its  folk-epic ;  for  instance,  the  Greek  Iliad  and 
Odyssey,  the  Latin  fineid,  the  English  Beowulf,  the  Ger- 
man Nibelungenlied,  the  Spanish  Cid,  and  the  more  mod- 
ern epics,  but  belonging  to  this  class,  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost  and  Dante's  Divine  Comedy. 

THE  LEGENDARY  EPIC. — The  legendary  epic  is  founded 
on  some  folk-epic,  but  is  lighter  in  character,  the  action 
being  less  momentous,  and  the  characters  less  heroic. 
Examples  of  this  class  are :  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales, 
founded  on  sacred  legend ;  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King, 
founded  on  national  legend ;  and  Lowell's  Vision  of  Sir 
Launfal,  founded  on  the  ideals  of  chivalry.  Longfel- 
low's Hiawatha,  Keats,  Hyperion,  and  William  Morris' 
Sigurd  the  Volsung  belong  to  this  class. 


100  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

THE  MOCK-EPIC. — The  mock-epic  is  a  humorous 
imitation  of  heroic  poetry,  treating  some  trivial  sub- 
ject in  the  heroic  style,  as  if  it  were  of  great  importance, 
thus  casting  ridicule  upon  the  subject.  Butler's 
Hudibras  is  a  famous  example,  and  the  Spanish  epic  Don 
Quixote,  by  Cervantes. 

THE  METRICAL  ROMANCE. — The  metrical  romance  is 
a  tale  of  adventure  in  which  the  mysterious  and  super- 
natural play  a  large  part,  and  the  background  is  usually 
historical.  Scott's  Marmion,  and  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel, 
illustrate  this  class. 

THE  METRICAL  TALE. — The  metrical  tale  is  a  story 
of  ordinary  life,  having  some  elements  of  plot  worked 
out  to  a  considerable  length.  Longfellow's  Evangeline 
is  the  typical  epic  of  this  kind.  Others  are  Mrs. 
Browning's  Aurora  Leigh,  Owen  Meredith's  Lucile,  Ten- 
nyson's Encch  Arden. 

THE  BALLAD. — The  ballad  differs  from  the  metrical 
tale  only  in  being  shorter  and  without  plot,  the  story 
being  a  simple  incident ;  such  as,  Whittier's  Maud  Muller, 
or  Longfellow's  Wreck  cfthe  Hesperus.  When  the  persons 
of  the' story  speak  for  themselves,  the  ballad  is  called 
dramatic,  such  as  Robert  Browning's  How  They  Brought 
the  Good  News  from  Ghent  to  Aix,  or  Coleridge's  Ancient 
Mariner.  The  English  ballad  was  sung  by  wandering 
gleemen  in  the  very  earliest  times,  the  themes  being 
the  outlaw,  the  wild  border  life,  and  battles.  These 
began  to  be  printed  about  the  beginning  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  oldest  that  are  well  known  are 
the  Robin  Hood  Ballads,  the  Nut  Brown  Maid,  and  Chevy 
Chase. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  101 

THE  IDYLL  AND  PASTORAL. — The  idyll  is  usually  nar- 
ative  in  character,  but  it  is  really  a  combination  of 
lyric,  epic,  and  descriptive  poetry.  It  is  the  miniature 
form  of  any  kind  of  poetry,  perfection  of  detail  being 
the  poet's  object.  When  the  idyll  is  largely  descrip- 
tive of  rural  scenes  it  is  called  a  pastoral.  Tennyson 
calls  his  poem  The  Brook  an  idyll.  His  poem  Dora  may 
also  be  classed  as  an  idyll.  The  Book  of  Ruth,  in  the 
Bible i  is  a  typicaljpastoral. 

THE  ALLEGORY. — The  allegory  is  fictitious  narrative. 
Events,  usually  improbable,  are  related  that  will  point 
out  some  moral.  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene  is  the  great 
masterpiece  of  poetic  allegory.  Wagner's  poetic  ver- 
sion of  the  story  of  Parsifal  teaches  the  lesson  that  man 
is  purified  by  temptation  and  sorrow  successfully  com- 
bated. Leigh  Hunt's  Abou  ben  Adhem  is  a  simple  form 
of  allegory,  and  Lowell's  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal  is  typical 
of  symbolism  in  poetry. 

DESCRIPTIVE  POETRY.— Descriptive  poetry 
hardly  forms  a  class  by  itself.  In  verse,  as  in  prose, 
there  are  descriptive  touches  here  and  there,  as  the 
natural  accompaniment  of  all  poetic  feeling.  Descrip- 
tion is  a  necessary  part  of  any  good  epic.  Description 
is  much  used  because  of  the  suggestive  power  of  objects, 
and  therefore  is  a  large  part  of  reflective  poetry.  Even 
in  poems  largely  descriptive,  like  Goldsmith's  Deserted 
Village ,  objects  are  described  only  to  suggest  reflections. 
Wordsworth's  poem,  /  Wandered  Lonely  as  a  Cloud,  which 
describes  the  daffodils,  ends  with  a  slight  reflection. 
Matthew  Arnold's  poem,  Sohrab  and  Rustum,  ends  with 
one  stanza  which  is  a  masterpiece  of  description. 
Keats  makes  the  reader  see  the  Grecian  Urn  as  he 


102  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

gives  his  reflections  about  it.  Milton's  L' Allegro,  though 
largely  descriptive,  is  a  reflective  lyric,  and  The  Vision 
of  Sir  Lanfal,  strictly  epic,  has  two  Preludes  of  beautiful 
description.  Whittier's  Snow  Bound  is  mainly  descrip- 
tive. Byron's  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage  is  an  example 
of  combined  lyric,  epic,  and  descriptive  poetry. 

DRAMATIC  POETRY.— Dramatic  poetry  is  the 
representation  of  human  life  by  speech  and  action  in- 
stead of  by  recital.  It  is  the  summary  and  climax  of  the 
poetic  forms,  for  it  makes  live  before  the  eyes  what 
epic  and  lyric  poetry  can  only  suggest.  When  a  drama 
is  written  in  verse,  the  subject  is  generally  of  the  same 
romantic  nature  as  the  subjects  of  epic  poetry ;  and  just 
as  there  are  few  modern  themes  for  epic  poetry,  so  there 
are  few  modern  dramas  written  in  verse.  Stephen  Phil- 
lips and  William  Butler  Yeats  are  well  known  modern 
dramatic  poets.  Most  of  the  modern  poetical  dramas 
are  not  suitable  for  the  stage,  such,  for  instance,  as 
Tennyson's  Shelley's,  Swinburne's  Robert  Browning's. 
The  mysterious  solemnity  of  the  action  of  great  spir- 
itual forces,  as  seen  in  a  tragedy,  naturally  is  expressed 
in  stately  blank  verse,  so  that  a  tragedy  may  be  poetry 
without  having  action  enough  for  the  stage.  But  the 
measured  language  of  poetry  is  not  suitable  for  the 
lighter  affairs  of  the  ordinary  comedy.  The  poet 
Shakespeare,  the  model  for  dramatic  poetry,  varies  his 
lines  from  verse  to  prose  according  as  the  theme  is  or 
is  not  poetic.  Even  his  comedies  have  enough  of  the 
ideal  and  romantic  in  them,  and  enough  beauty  of 
sentiment,  to  make  the  majority  of  the  lines  naturally 
have  verse  form.  The  nature  of  the  theme,  then,  is 
what  determines  whether  a  drama  should  be  prose  or 
verse. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  103 

TRAGEDY  AND  COMEDY. — The  difference  between 
tragedy  and  comedy  is  a  difference  in  subject,  in  the 
social  rank  of  the  characters,  in  the  ending,  and  in  the 
effect  upon  the  audience  or  reader.  Tragedy  deals 
with  great  events,  or  something  connected  with  public 
affairs;  comedy  deals  with  familiar  and  domestic  life. 
The  material  for  tragedy  is  usually  furnished  by  histor- 
ical events  or  characters ;  the  material  for  comedy  is 
original  with  the  author.  The  underlying  theme  for 
either  tragedy  or  comedy  is  "poetical  justice/'  In 
tragedy,  "justice"  is  the  result  of  the  working  out  of 
great,  universal  principles;  in  comedy,  it  is  the  re- 
sult of  human  effort  in  controlling  circumstances.  In 
tragedy,  the  "dramatic  conflict"  is  between  human 
will  and  those  great  spiritual  forces  sometimes  summed 
up  under  the  name  Fate;  in  comedy,  it  is  between 
the  human  wills  of  different  individuals.  Tragedy  lies 
in  human  character ;  comedy  lies  mainly  in  situation. 
The  actors  in  tragedy  are  of  high  rank,  either  socially 
or  morally;  the  actors  in  comedy  may  belong  to  any 
rank.  The  ending  of  tragedy  is  unhappy;  that  of  com- 
edy is  happy.  In  tragedy,  the  conclusion  is  foreshad- 
owed throughout;  in  comedy,  the  conclusion  is  a 
surprise,  or  at  least  consists  in  the  unforeseen  removal 
of  obstacles  to  an  expected  end.  The  complications  in 
tragedy  produce  sorrow;  the  complications  of  comedy 
produce  mirth.  Tragedy,  according  to  Aristotle,  puri- 
fies the  moral  character  of  the  beholder,  through  the 
passions  of  pity  and  fear;  comedy  encourages  to  a 
cheerful  view  of  things,  for  follies  are  not  fatal,  mis- 
takes are  rectified,  and  some  good  comes  out  of  any 
situation. 


104  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

THE  TRAGEDY. — The  tragedy  presents  a  phase  of 
the  soul,  or  human  character,  and  the  action  takes  place 
in  that  locality  or  period  where  that  particular  phase  of 
character  can  be  studied  to  the  best  advantage .  Tragedy 
is  the  overthrow  of  a  hero.  The  hero  is  a  man  of  high 
ideals,  who  for  a  long  time  is  able  to  support  these 
ideals  in  his  own  life,  but  in  whom  there  is  a  weakness, 
unsuspected  by  himself,  which  finally  works  his  ruin. 
The  ideals  and  the  weakness  must  be  universal,  for,  to 
awaken  pity  and  fear,  it  must  be  possible  for  a  like  fate 
to  overtake  the  spectator  or  reader.  The  unconscious- 
ness of  the  hero  concerning  his  own  weakness  until  the 
fatal  step  is  taken,  is  what  rouses  pity  and  fear.  The 
cause  for  the  hero's  action  must  be  sufficient  to  make 
sympathy  possible,  and  the  flaw  in  character,  of  which 
the  hero  is  unconscious,  must  be  plain  enough  to  the 
spectator  so  that  the  end  is  seen  to  be  the  inevitable  one. 
In  the  typical  tragedy,  the  forces  in  conflict  are  irrecon- 
cilable. In  some  serious  plays,  in  which  tragedy  is 
threatened,  the  catastrophe  is  averted  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  counter-forces ;  and,  although  the  ending  is  com- 
pararatively  happy ,'it  is  not  quite  comedy,  because  there 
has  been  a  conflict  of  principles  rather  than  a  conflict 
between  chance  situations  which  are  untangled  by 
human  effort.  The  earliest  tragedies  were  cases  of  un- 
merited misfortune ;  the  hero  commits  some  innocent 
action  which  he  is  led  to  believe  is  criminal,  and  which 
he  expiates  by  some  unnecessary  sacrifice  of  himself. 
But  in  modern  tragedy,,  the  hero  is  not  innocent,  and 
the  interest  lies  in  deciding  whether  the  hero  meets 
with  suffering  beyond  deserts,  or  whether  justice  is  sat- 
isfied. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  105 

The  structure  of  a  tragedy  is  described  by 
Freytag  as  five  stages  of  action,  and  three  dramatic 
moments.  The  five  stages  of  action  are  :  (1)  Prepara- 
tion— situation  laid  out  and  characters  introduced ;  (2) 
Complication — a  series  of  situations ;  (3)  Climax  of 
Complications — a  reverse  of  fortune,  but  complications 
still  unsolved ;  (4)  Solution — the  fatal  step  which 
makes  the  outcome  evident,  but  still  hope  of  salvation ; 
(5)  Catastrophe.  The  three  dramatic  moments  are  :  (1) 
Climax  of  Entanglement — fortune  reversed ;  (2)  Tragic 
Moment — the  misstep;  (3)  Moment  of  Final  Sus- 
pense. 

THE  COMEDY. — The  comedy  grows  out  of  human 
character  also,  since  all  action  is  the  outgrowth  of 
charactert  but  the  interest  lies  not  so  much  in  human 
character  as  in  human  fortunes.  For  this  reason  interest 
does  not  necessarily  center  around  one  hero.  The  ending 
differs  from  that  of  tragedy,  not  only  in  being  happy, 
but  in  an  unravelling,  ascending  movement,  rather  than 
a  catastrophe.  The  comedy,  as  well  as  the  tragedy,  has 
moral  value,  for  it  is  the  great  field  for  "poetical 
justice."  Although  the  comedy  pictures  ordinary 
domestic  life,  there  is  ample  opportunity  for  ideal 
situations,  delicate  sentiment,  brilliant  wit,  and  charm- 
ing manners,  which  make  it  fit  for  poetic  form.  The 
best  form  of  comedy  is  the  satirical,  in  which  the 
satire  is  concealed  beneath  a  wealth  of  humor,  but 
which  succeeds  in  remedying  social  evils  by  turning 
the  laugh  on  them. 

THE  SUBJECTIVE  DRAMA. — The  subjective  drama,  in 
verse,  is  the  highest  form  of  recent  drama.  Beginning 
with  Goethe's  Faust,  and  the  dramas  of  Alexandre 


106  TEE  READER'S  BASIS 

Dumas,  fils,  this  form  is  steadily  developing.  It  is  the 
drama  of  the  human  soul,  with  very  little  external  action, 
much  less  than  is  found  in  the  classic  tragedy.  It  is  the 
classic  tragedy  transferred  from  the  world  of  public 
affairs  to  the  quiet  of  the  fireside.  It  finds  in  moral 
problems  the  equivalent  of  what  once  was  offered  by 
exterior  life.  That  is  to  say,  the  dramatic  conflict  is 
between  the  contending  passions  within  the  individual 
soul  of  the  hero,  which  leads  to  some  moral  victory  or 
defeat.  The  crisis,  therefore,  is  not  death,  as  in  the 
classic  tragedy,  but  some  turning-point  in  life. 

THE  MASK. — The  mask,  or  masque,  is  a  light  play 
given  as  an  entertainment  in  honor  of  some  person. 
Dances  and  songs  are  mixed  with  the  acting,  and  the 
dramatic  incident  is  very  slight.  The  scene  is  rustic, 
the  subject  matter  is  allegorical,  the  material  is  taken 
from  mythology,  and  the  characters  are  both  human 
and  supernatural.  The  main  aim  is  to  produce  a  fine 
spectacular  effect.  The  lines  should  be  graceful  and 
sprightly.  The  mask  was  a  common  form  of  entertain- 
ment in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries. 
Although  Milton's  Comns  is  the  best  known  mask,  Ben 
Johnson  is  considered  the  most  successful  writer  of 
this  form  of  drama. 

MORALITY  PLAY. — The  morality  is  a  form  of  the  re- 
ligious drama  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  virtues  and  the 
vices  are  personified,  and  become  the  characters  in  the 
play.  The  morality  play  is  intended  to  teach  principles 
of  virtue.  Everyman,  which  is  a  recently  revived  moral- 
ity, shows  that  life  is  transitory,  and  that  every  man  is 
called  by  death  to  a  reckoning  of  his  good  and  evil 
deeds.  Everyman,  the  hero  of  the  play,  is  summoned 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  107 

by  Death  to  make  a  pilgrimage  and  bring  with  him  his 
deeds  for  a  reckoning.  After  failing  to  evade  the  sum- 
mons, Everyman  seeks  for  companions  to  go  with  him 
on  the  prilgrimage.  Good-Fellowship  refuses,  Discre- 
tion, Beauty,  Strength,  and  Five-Wits  run  away  from 
him,  Kindred  accompanies  him  only  a  short  way, 
Worldly  Goods  cannot  get  out  of  his  chests  and  bags, 
Good  Deeds  is  too  feeble  te  move,  Knowledge  goes  with 
him  to  the  holy  man  Confession,  who  so  strengthens 
Good  Deeds  that  Everyman  finally  reaches  the  grave  ac- 
companied only  by  Good  Deeds.  This  form  of  drama, 
is  similar  to  the  prose  narrative  allegory,  Bunyan's  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  write n  a  century  later,  which  gives  an 
account  of  Christian's  pilgrimage  from  the  city  Des- 
truction to  Golden  City,  some  of  the  characters  being 
Mr.  Hopeful,  Mr.  Goodheart,  Mr.  Littlefaith,  and  the 
giant  Despair. 


Oratory. — An  oration  is  that  form  of  discourse  the 
aim  of  which  is  to  influence  tbe  will,  and  therefore  the 
action  of  the  hearer.  As  its  name  implies,  it  is  oral 
address.  Those  orations  which  are  a  part  of  permanent 
literature  were  originally  addressed  to  an  audience, 
and  something  of  their  effect  is  lost  without  the  speak- 
er's voice  and  presence, 

PERSUASION. — Oratory  is  persuasion.  This  limits 
the  character  of  the  theme.  Persuasion  implies  some 
opposition  or  indifference  to  be  overcome,  and  some 
possible  issue  in  action.  In  other  words,  there  must 
be  occasion  for  oratory.  Occasion  may  be  popular  op- 


108  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

position  to  the  orator's  views,   or  public  indifference 
towards  something  which  should  engage  public  atten- 
tion, or  the  occasion  may  be  some  course  of  action  to 
which  men  need,  at  a  particular  time,  to  be  persuaded. 
The  theme  of  oratory  is  therefore  dictated  by  the  con- 
ditions of  the  times,  the   general   public   attitude   of 
mind,  or  some  special  political  or  social  crisis,     Persua- 
sion consists,  first,  in  exposing  and  expounding  some 
proposition ;  second,  in  convincing  the  intellect  of  its 
truth  by  argument ;  third,  in  so  arousing  the  feelings 
about  what  has  been  proved  that  the  will  is  inspired 
and  directed  to  some  form  of  action.     The  orator  be- 
gins with  having  an  object;  he  then  takes  any  subject 
the   treatment   of  which  will  accomplish  that  object. 
Therein  an  oration  differs  from  an  essay.     Oral  address 
does  not  in  itself  constitute  oratory;  many  public  ad- 
dresses are  essays,  seeking  only  to  give  information  or 
entertainment.     An  oration  does  not  stop  with  inform- 
ing, nor  with  merely  exciting  the  feelings ;  it  fails  un- 
less   it  persuades.     Therefore   a   theme   which   offers 
opportunity   to  address  the  will,  instead  of  a  theme 
which  merely  informs  or  interests,  is  the  essential  point 
which  distinguishes  an  oration  from  any  other  literary 
form.     In  the  oration  is  found  the  sum  of  all  literary 
forms.     Appeal  is  made  first  to  the  mind  and  heart  in 
order  finally  to  influence  the  will.     Narration,  descrip- 
tion,   exposition,    argument,  and  all  the  resources  of 
diction,  combine  to  accomplish  the  supreme  object  of 
discourse — namely,  the  moving  of  the  human  will. 

ORATIONS  AS  PERMANENT  LITERATURE. — The  orations 
found  in  literature  have  been  delivered  on  some  occa- 
sion which  furnished  the  reason  for  their  delivery. 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  109 

Since  oratory  is  always  associated  with  some  event  of 
the  time,  and  is  used  to  meet  some  special  need,  it  is 
of  permanent  value  to  readers  only  when  the  theme 
is  one  concerning  which  men  need  constantly  to  be  per- 
suaded. The  great  orations  of  literature  set  forth  prin- 
ciples of  action  which  are  universal  in  their  application. 
For  instance,  the  eulogy  of  any  great  man  may  present 
an  ideal  of  conduct  which  the  public,  at  any  time, 
needs  to  be  persuaded  to  adopt.  Again,  the  rehearsing 
of  the  political  condition  of  some  past  period,  and  the 
persuading  to  some  political  action  now  past,  may  fur- 
nish principles  by  which  modern  times  may  be  per- 
suaded to  right  action.  Again,  oratory  may  not  only 
persuade  the  will  to  some  immediate  action,  such  as  a 
vote,  a  verdict,  or  engagement  in  some  enterprise,  but 
it  may  persuade  to  noble  ideals  and  sentiments  which 
will  act  gradually  in  reforming  and  ennobling  life. 
There  is  always  occasion  for  such  persuasion,  and  also 
for  that  kind  of  persuasion  which  leads  one  to  consider 
some  idea  in  a  new  light,  and  to  come  to  a  conclusion 
about  it  which  will  result  in  definite  action  whenever 
opportunity  offers.  Oratory,  then,  may  have  universal 
and  permanent  interest.  But  whether  one  listens  to 
oratory  or  reads  it,  the  final  test  of  its  value  is  its 
success  in  moving  the  will  to  action. 

ORATORICAL  FORM. — Success  in  oratory  depends  upon 
the  character  of  the  orator  rather  than  upon  the  follow- 
ing of  any  directions.  Sincerity^of  purpose,  and  his 
own  enthusiastic  conviction,  will  make  the  orator  find 
the  natural  means  for  persuasion.  The  essence  of 
oratory  is  control  of  an  audience.  Perhaps  the  only 
two  essentials  for  success  are  the  power  to  sense  the 


110  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

occasion  which  has  called  forth  the  oration,  and  an  in- 
stinctive knowledge  of  human  nature.  The  sagacity 
with  which  the  orator  exactly  senses  the  demands  of 
the  occasion — all  the  elements  of  it,  the  general  atmos- 
phere of  place,  time,  and  audience — and  his  command 
of  the  universal  elements  of  human  nature,  is  what 
establishes  the  alliance  between  himself  and  his  audi- 
ence, which  is  the  foundation  of  all  true  oratory.  The 
three  aims  of  the  orator  are,  first,  to  appeal  to  ordinary 
human  motives ,  so  as  to  establish  a  connection  between 
the  interests  of  his  audience  and  the  cause  he  is  advo- 
cating ;  second,  to  arouse  emotion;  third,  to  give  direction 
to  the  emotion,  so  that  it  shall  issue  in  the  action  desired. 
Corresponding  with  these  aims  are  the  two  methods, 
argument  and  eloquence. 

Argument  must  satisfy  the  understanding  before 
any  appeal  to  the  feelings  can  be  effective.  All  the 
methods  of  argumentation  may  be  used,  arguments 
from  example  and  analogy  being  most  effective.  Of 
course,  the  first  essential  is  that  the  one  thing  of  which 
the  audience  is  to  be  persuaded,  shall  be  made  per- 
fectly clear.  Oratory  being  popular  speech,  it  must 
first  of  all  make  its  meaning  plain.  The  orator  depends 
upon  a  few  points  so  clearly  articulated  and  so  strongly 
maintained  that  no  hearer  can  mistake  the  one  central 
point  of  which  he  is  to  be  persuaded.  Unity,  or  the 
use  of  only  such  material  as  will  directly  contribute  to 
the  main  end,  and  Coherence,  the  logical  sequence  of 
thought  which  produces  a  cumulative  effect,  make 
what  is  called  the  structural  quality  of  an  oration. 

Eloquence  is  essential  after  the  structure  of  an 
oration  has  provided  for  its  clearness  to  the  understand 


THE  READER'S  FIELD  111 

ing.  Eloquence  is  defined  as  the  natural  expression  of 
strong  emotion.  Emotion  which  is  manufactured  for 
the  occasion  expresses  itself  in  unnatural,  bombastic 
language  which  defeats  the  purpose  of  oratory.  When 
the  speaker's  emotion  rises  naturally  out  of  the  public 
need  which  has  led  the  orator  to  speak — in  other  words, 
out  of  the  occasion — then  the  orator  will  make  his 
emotion  felt  even  through  simple  language,  although 
some  subjects  naturally  lead  the  orator  into  splendor  of 
phrase  and  imagery.  The  passion  of  the  speaker  will 
appear  in  his  diction,  in  the  rhythmical  flow  of  his 
sentences,  and  in  his  use  of  figures  of  speech.  The 
will  is  reached  through  the  feelings,  and  therefore 
impassioned  but  reasonable  language  is  expected  in 
oratory. 

Oratory  may  be  summed  up  as  argument  and 
appeal.  Modern  practice  blends  the  two  throughout. 
Every  argument  is  so  presented  as  to  make  an  appeal 
to  the  feelings;  every  appeal  to  the  feelings  rests 
solidly  on  argument. 


Conclusion. — The  object  of  this  chapter  is  to  give 
some  information  about  the  reader's  field — its  extent, 
and  number  of  sections  into  which  it  has  been  divided. 
The  field  has  been  shown  from  two  points  of  view — 
from  the  point  of  view  of  subject  matter,  or  classes  of 
books,  and  the  point  of  view  of  literary  form,  Enough 
explanation  of  each  section  has  been  given  to  prepare 
one  to  read  intelligently  in  any  section.  Enough  ex- 


112  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

amples  have  been  given  to  constitute  a  course  of  read- 
ing which  if  followed  will  make  one  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  at  least  the  field  of  literature,  after 
which  one  may  roam  the  field  all  one's  life  with  greater 
likelihood  of  finding  the  best  things.  The  information 
given  is  the  smallest  amount  that  will  furnish  a  basis 
for  extended,  well-balanced,  and  intelligent  reading. 


CHAPTER  III 
COURSES  OF  READING 

"The  choice  of  books  is  really  the  choice  of  an  education. 

— Frederic  Harrison. 


4 'Definite  reading  is  profitable;   miscellaneous  reading 

pleasant." 

—/Seneca. 


"Let  us  read  with  method,  and  propose  to  ourselves  an  end 

to  which  our  studies  may  point." 

—Edward  Gibbon. 


1  'In  these  days  of  book  deluge,  keep  out  of  the  salt  swamps 
of  literature,  and  live  on  a  little  rocky  island  of  your  own, 
with  a  spring  and  a  lake  in  it,  pure  and  good.' ' 

— John  Buskin. 


"Reading  is  mental  traveling.  Every  intelligent  traveler 
outlines  his  route,  selects  the  places  of  'interest,  and  appor- 
tions his  time.  If  one  is  to  traverse  a  certain  territory  in  a 
given  period,  his  movements  must  be  guided  byiforethought 
and  method.  He  cannot  afford  to  gratify  *his  vagrant*  im- 
pulses by  loitering  at  one  point  and  another,  as  his  moods 
suggest." 

—Hamilton  Wright  Mabie. 


Fouiidationnl  Heading. — The  question  for  all 
readers  is  how  to  make  the  most  out  of  the  reader's 
field.  This  opens  the  question  of  methods,  and  of  the 

118 


^ 

THE 

UNIVERSITY 

V  Of 


114  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

worth   of  systematic    reading    by  courses.     The  word 
"courses",  as  applied  to  reading,  is  apt  to  suggest  a 
system  and  formality  which  is  repugnant  to  young  people. 
This  is  because  reading  has  come  to  be  looked  upon  as 
an  entertainment  or  pastime.     Heading  may  be  that  to 
mature  people.     But  to  young  people,  reading  is  educa- 
tion ;  the  very  limited  education  of  the  class-room  must 
be  supplemented  by  excursions  into  the  wide  field  of  lit- 
erature, if  education  lays  a  broad  enough  basis  for  future 
usefulness  and  happiness.     It  is  a  question  how  much 
time  a  student,  during  his  school-days,   can  afford  to 
spend  in  chance  reading  for   mere  entertainment,  or 
to  gratify  an  inclination  towards  any  one  line  of  read- 
ing.    Of  course,  much  knowledge  and  culture  can  be 
picked  up  by  such  reading.     But  if  a  student  pursues 
this  course,  it  is  likely  that  in  later  life  he  will  be  em- 
barrassed by  great   gaps   in  his  knowledge,  and  by  his 
ignorance  of  what  he  finds  tha4feti>verybody  is  supposed 
to  know.     For  this  reason  the  student  is  urged  to  use 
his    school-days   for    the    purpose   of   getting    in     the 
foundations.     That  there  are  definite  foundations  for  the 
culture  of   later  life,  there  can  be  no  question.     The 
following    courses    are     suggestions   for    laying    such 
foundations. 

,it  is  expected  that  the  student  will  use  judgment 
in  carrying  out  the  suggestions  made  by  these  courses. 
There  should  be  no  rigid  adherence  to  a  system — 
nothing  that  will  be  so  burdensome  as  to  kill  the 
natural  love  for  reading.  The  student  will  find  that 
much  of  what  is  suggested  has  already  bee.n  accom- 
plished, and  he  will  find  his  own  way  for  accomplish- 
ing what  these  courses  show  him  yet  remains  to  be 


COURSES  OF  READING  116 

done.  There  is  an  orderly  way,  of  course,  for  getting 
in  foundations,  which  insures  their  fitness  for  support- 
ing. something  to  be  built  upon  them,  and  for  this 
reason  the  courses  have  been  numbered  in  a  natural 
sequence.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  complete  one 
course  before  beginning  another,  or  to  follow  any  fixed 
system  that  is  obnoxious  to  the  reader.  Of  course, 
considerable  resolution  is  necessary  in  order  to  get  any 
kind  of  education,  or  to  lay  any  kind  of  foundation.  At 
the  very  least,  the  reader  must  have  enough  system  to 
decide  in  advance  what  book  he  is  going  to  read  next. 
The  main  purpose  in  setting  these  courses  before  a 
student  is  to  indicate  the  amount  and  kind  of  reading 
which  should  be  accomplished  by  the  time  the  student 
reaches  the  end  of  high-school  days,  or  possibly  the 
end  of  a  college  course,  because  such  reading  is  the 
basis  for  further  progress. 


ONE 

Basis:  Subject  Matter.  Purpose:  Widening: 
of  Interest.  —  A  chief  test  of  one's  education  is  the 
question  whether  it  has  awakened  in  one's  mind  some 
permanent  and  valuable  interests.  Everyone  makes 
his  own  world  by  the  number  of  interests  to  which  he 
has  accustomed  his  mind  to  attend.  A  growth  in  char- 
acter and  experience  is  the  enlarging  of  the  circle  of 
one's  interests.  High-school  study  should  open  the 
whole  field  of  human  interests,  deepen  and  fix  inter- 
est in  a  fiew  definite  directions,  and  gradually  enlarge 
the  range  of  individual  interest. 

In  order  that  the  few  interests  which  become 
permanent  shall  be  wisely  chosen,  it  is  of  the  first 


116  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

importance  to  take  a  view  of  the  whole  field  of 
human  interests.  The  first  course  of  reading  recom- 
mended is,  therefore,  one  which  is  suggested  in  Section 
I  of  Chapter  II.  It  is  a  course  which  will  give  the 
reader  a  survey  of  the  whole  field  of  interests  by  read- 
ing a  few  books  from  each  class  of  the  twenty-two 
classes  of  books.  The  books  mentioned  in  that  section 
as  examples  would  constitute  such  a  course.  The  ex- 
amples are  selected  chiefly  from  the  popular  books  of 
the  day,  since  they  are  most  appropriate  for  the  pur- 
pose intended.  In  such  a  course,  the  reader  reads  for 
information,  and  his  attention  is  limited  to  subject- 
matter.  This  sort  of  reading  belongs  to  an  early  stage 
in  one's  development  as  a  reader.  Such  a  course 
should  be  finished  by  the  time  that  one  has  completed  a 
high-school  course,  for'soon  after  that  time  the  tendency 
to  specialize" should  begin.  After  taking  this  course, 
the  specialist  will  have  a  reasonable  regard  for  other 
interests  than  his  own. 

In  this  course  of  reading,  more  than  in  any  other,  it 
is  desirable  that  the  reader  should  make  out  his  own 
course.  This  may  be  done  as  follows.  Go  to  the  ref- 
erence-room of  the  public  library  and  get  a  finding-list 
for^each  of  the.twenty-two  classes  of  books.  Get,  also, 
two  or  three  of  the  latest  supplements,  and  observe 
that  in  each  supplement  all  the  classes  of  books  are 
given,  and  the  newest  books  in  each  class.  Ask  also 
for  a  bulletin  of  the  books  bought  since  the  latest 
supplement  was  published,  and  beside  the  title  of 
each  book  will  be  found  a  letter  to  indicate  the  class 
to  which  the^book, belongs;  on  the  card-catalogue  case 
will  be  found  the  list  of  these  letters,  and  the  class 


COURSES  OF  READING  \\1 

they  indicate.  Use  the  finding-lists  to  make  a  quick 
survey  of  the  field,  noticing  how  the  classes  of  books 
are  subdivided  into  interesting  divisions.  Now  make 
a  list  of  those  titles  which  strongly  appeal  to  your  own 
interest,  getting  at  least  one  title  from  each  of  the 
twenty-two  classes,  or,  if  the  subdivisions  are  not  too 
numerous,  one  from  each  subdivision.  Begin  with 
the  bulletin  and  latest  supplements  and  look  back 
towards  the  older  books  until  a  title  has  been  found  in 
each  division  which  thoroughly  arouses  your  interest. 
This  need  not  be  a  very  lengthy  task,  though  you 
should  not  be  too  easily  satisfied  with  a  title.  In  every 
class  of  books  except  fiction,  the  title  is  sufficiently 
explicit  to  guide  your  choice.  If  doubtful,  the  refer- 
ence clerk  will  bring  you  a  book  for  examination,  and 
a  glance  at  the  table  of  contents  will  decide  you. 
Make  the  list  as  short  as  will  represent  each  class,  for 
the  object  of  this  course  of  reading  is  to  get,  as  soon  as 
possible,  an  acquaintance  with  the  whole  field  of  inter- 
ests. The  list  should  not  be  lengthened  by  special 
interest  in  any  class,  for  the  object  is  to  get  a  quick 
survey  of  the  whole  field,  and  not  to  indulge  one's  in- 
terest in  any  one  class.  Opportunity  for  such  indul- 
gence should  come  later. 

The  making  out  of  this  course  for  oneself,  not 
only  makes  a  course  of  reading  that  has  a  personal 
interest  to  the  reader,  but  gives  one  the  opportunity, 
through  the  handling  [of  the  finding-lists,  to  see  the 
whole  field  mapped  out  before  him.  This  experience 
should  correct  provincialism  by  showing  how  much 
there  is  to  be  interested  in. 


118  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

COURSE   TWO 

Basis:  Literary  Form.  Purpose:  Cultivation 
of  Literary  Taste. — The  reading  of  Course  One  is  for 
the  purpose  of  making  one  well-informed  ;  the  reading  of 
Course  Two  is  to  make  one  appreciative  of  literary  art. 
The  reading  of  books  should  furnish  not  only  informa- 
tion but  enjoyment.  There  is  a  higher  kind  of  enjoy- 
ment than  that  afforded  by  subject-matter;  it  is  the 
satisfaction  afforded  to  the  taste.  Literary  taste  may 
be  instinctive,  but  it  is  possible  to  make  the  exercise  of 
it  conscious  and  enjoyable.  Taste  should  be  awakened, 
corrected,  and  cultivated,  if  literature  ever  becomes  to 
the  reader  the  well-spring  of  pleasure  that  many  have- 
found  it  to  be.  Taste  is  a  sense  for  form.  Literary 
taste  is  cultivated  by  cultivating  a  sense  for  literary 
form.  A  taste  for  literary  form  consists  in  recognizing 
the  many  different  forms  in  which  thought  and  feeling 
may  be  expressed.  Knowledge  is  altogether  different 
from  thought  and  feeling.  When  an  author  aims  only 
to  set  forth  his  knowledge  for  the  reader's  information, 
the  reader  does  not  notice  the  form  of  expression,  since 
its  only  merit  is  clearness;  but  when  an  author  reveals 
his' own  thoughts  and  his  feelings,  he  does  it  in  a  form 
that  corresponds  with  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  and 
with  his  own  mood  or  temperament.  There  are  books 
classed  as  books  of  information,  and  books  classed  as 
literature.  It  is  the  expression  of  one's  thoughts  and 
feelings  in  appropriate  form  which  constitutes  litera- 
ture. It  is  the  form  of  expression  that  makes  writing 
an  art.  In  order  to  appreciate  literature  as  art,  one 
must  appreciate  literary  form. 


COURSES  OF  READING  119 

The  second  course  of  reading  recommended  .is, 
therefore,  one  which  is  suggested  in  Section  II  of 
Chapter  II.  It  is  a  course  which  will  give  the  reader 
a  survey  of  the  variety  of  forms  in  which  one  ma.y  exr 
press  himself.  The  course  should  consist  of  at  least 
one  example  of  every  literary  form.  The  literary  com- 
positions given  as  examples  in  the  list  of  literary  forms, 
together  with  those  mentioned  in  the  explanation  of 
the  different  forms,  would  constitute  such  a  course. 
The  examples  given  in  the  list  are,  as  far  as  possible,, 
simple,  modern  types,  suitable  for  high-school  stur 
dents,  or  for  those  who  are  beginning  to  study  form. 
Masterpieces  of  these  forms  should  be  read  later,  for 
after  becoming  acquainted  with  a  form  through  a  sim- 
ple example,  one  is  prepared  to  appreciate  the  master- 
piece of  that  form.  The  reading  of  this  course  should 
prepare  the  reader  to  get  enjoyment  not  only  from 
subject-matter,  but  also  from  noticing  the  form  which 
the  subject  is  made  to  take. 

A  student  may  make  his  own  course  by  looking  in 
the  A.  L.  A.  Index,  and  in  the  card-catalogue,  for  each 
word  which  is  the  name  of  a  literary  form,  and  choos- 
ing, among  the  titles  indexed  under  each,  one  title 
for  each  form.  But  this  choice  cannot  be  made  by  the 
student  so  easily  as  it  can  be  made  in  Course  One, 
because  a  title  is  not  here  so  good  a  guide  as  to  what 
selection  to  make,  since  the  reader's  object  is  not 
subject-matter  but  form. 

COURSE  THREE 

Basis:  Criticism.  Purpose:  The  Facilitating 
of  Reading.— Courses  One  and  Two  introduce  the 


120  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

reader  to  such  a  vast  array  of  books  that  he  might  get 
discouraged  if  left  to  himself.  Plainly,  no  reader  can 
read  more  than  a  small  fraction  of  the  great  body  of 
books  called  literature.  Plainly,  too,  since  a  reader 
can  read  so  few  books  out  of  the  great  number,  it  is 
important  that  his  choice  should  be  a  wise  one.  More- 
over, no  reader  is  contented  with  entire  ignorance  of 
the  books  he  will  never  have  time  to  read.  It  is 
therefore  well  to  begin  early  to  read  those  writers  who 
have  made  it  a  profession  to  read  extensively,  and 
who  serve  as  guides  for  those  who  have  less  time  to 
spend  among  books.  We  must  read  some  few  books, 
and  read  about  a  vast  majority  of  them.  The  critics 
tell  us  what  to  read  and  why,  and  tell  us  all  that  we 
need  to  know  about  other  books.  Also,  there  are 
books  which  we  find  too  difficult  for  us,  and  which  we 
are  apt  to  put  aside  for  want  of  assistance  in  under- 
standing them ;  the  critics  know  how  to  assist  us  in 
understanding,  so  that  the  great  books  need  not  be 
closed  books  to  us.  The  critics,  therefore,  make  the 
young  reader's  path  more  easy  than  it  would  seem  to 
be  possible  to  make  it,  when  the  reader  takes  his  first 
bewildering  survey  of  the  reader's  field. 

The  third  course  of  reading  recommended  is,  there- 
fore, one  that  is  limited  to  that  class  of  books  named 
Literature  or  Literary  Criticism.  In  making  a  list  of 
books  for  this  course,  the  reader  is  again  best  guided 
by  his  own  sense  of  what  he  needs.  The  library  finding- 
list  supplements  of  this  class,  or  cards  indexed  under 
Literature  and  Criticism  in  the  card-catalogue,  will 
furnish  titles  that  will  be  sufficient  guides^for^choice. 
This  course  should  include  the  periodicals  devoted  to 


COURSES  OF  READING  121 

this  subject,  and  some  magazine  articles  which  may  be 
selected  from  Poole's  Index.  The  number  of  books  to 
be  read  must  be  limited  by  the  amount  of  time  one 
may  spend  on  this  course  without  neglecting  the  others. 
Indeed,  the  high-school  student  may  be  satisfied  if  he 
has  learned  what  are  the  great  names  in  literature, 
names  of  authors  and  names  of  works,  and  has  caught 
enough  of  the  literary  spirit  and  atmosphere  so  that  he 
will  not  be  satisfied  with  knowing  names  only,  but 
will,  at  his  earliest  opportunity,  make  the  acquaintance 
of  the  authors  to  whom  he  will  be  introduced  by  this 
course. 

The  main  object  of  this  course  is  to  lay  the  basis 
of  future  selection.  It  should  include  hand-books  and 
manuals  which  take  the  place  of  the  advice  of  a 
teacher.  For  instance,  Baldwin's  The  Book-Lover  gives 
a  number  of  schemes  for  getting  hold  of  the  best  litera- 
ture and  associating  it  properly.  Although  these 
schemes  are  far  too  extensive  for  the  ordinary  student, 
they  will  furnish  many  valuable  suggestions.  The 
World's  Best  Books,  a  compilation  by  different  authors, 
gives  Tables  of  books,  which  serve  as  maps  of  the  field 
of  literature,  in  which  the  great  names  stand  out 
plainly  to  the  eye.  In  Books  Worth  Reading,  by  Frank 
Raffety,  there  is  a  list  of  one  hundred  famous  books 
with  explanations  of  them,  besides  other  chapters 
that  will  assist  the  reader  to  a  wise  choice,  particularly 
the  chapter  on  The  Ancients,  and  the  one  on  Foreign  Books. 
In  Hints  for  Home  Reading,  edited  by  Lyman  Abbott, 
there  are  suggestions  for  household  libraries  which  set 
before  one  all  the  books  worth  knowing.  The  school- 
reference  clerk,  at  the  public  library,  will  assist  one  in 
finding  many  useful  books  of  this  class. 


122  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

In  choosing  books  for  this  course,  the  reader  should 
take  special  pains  to  find  those  books  that  will  point 
out  the  world's  masterpieces,  known  as  classics,  (not 
confined  to  Greek  and  Roman  literature) ;  others  that 
will  guide  one  in  the  reading  of  mythology,  and  the 
great  race-epics ;  and  other  books  which  are  intended 
for  guides  in  reading  history  and  biography.  Any 
History  of  English  Literature,  such  as  George  Saintsbury's, 
or  Austin  Dobson's,  or  Stopford  Brooke's,  will  point 
out  the  English  classics ;  Collins'  Ancient  Classics  for 
English  Readers,  will  point  out  the  Greek  and  Roman 
classics;  and  Mrs.  Oliphant's  Foreign  Glassies  for  English 
Readers  will  point  out  the  other  European  classics. 
Bulfinch's  Age  of  Fable,  and  Gayley's  Classic  Myths  in 
English  Literature,wi\\  introduce  one  to  mythology,  and  the 
stories  of  the  race-epics  are  easily  found  in  many  forms. 
A  little  browsing  among  those  books  which  by  title 
suggest  that  they  are  about  the  great  men  and  women 
of  the  world,  should  lead  one  to  see  that  the  men  or 
women  to  know  are  those  who  have  been  associated  with 
great  historical  movements;  such,  for  instance,  as 
Oonstantine,  St.  Augustine,  Peter  the  Great,  Peter  the 
Hermit,  Charlemagne,  Alfred  the  Great,  Simon  de 
Montfort,  Savonarola,  Cromwell,  Luther,  Mahomet, 
William  of  Orange,  Coligny,  Richelieu, Victor  Emanuel, 
Giordano  Bruno,  Chevalier  Bayard,  John  Wesley, 
Michael  Angelo,  Wagner,  Thorwaldsen,  and  so  on> 
through  a  great  company.  Plutarch's  Lives,  and 
Kingsley's  Greek  Heroes  will  introduce  the  reader  to  the 
ancients,  and  John  Morley's  English  Men  of  Letters  series, 
will  point  out  the  great  English  writers.  Other  books 
for  this  purpose  may  be  easily  selected  by  title,  such 


COURSES  OF  READING  123 

as — Book  of  Golden  Deeds,  of  the  Golden  Treasury  series. 
If  the  reader  learns  no  more  than  names,  and  the  main 
fact  connected  with  each  name,  he  will  be  prepared  to 
take  up  the  reading  of  Course  Four. 

COURSE  FOUR 

Basis:  World's  Masterpieces  and  Mythology. 
Purpose:  The  Understanding1  of  Classic  Allu- 
sions.— Modern  literature  and  public  addresses  are 
full  of  allusions,  the  explaining  of  which  would  seem 
to  insult  the  intelligence  of  the  reader  or  hearer. 
This  indicates  that  there  are  some  things  which  have 
become  so  well  known  that  mere  allusion  to  them  is  all 
that  is  considered  necessary.  The  sources  of  allusions 
are  the  world's  masterpieces  in  literature — chiefly  the 
Bible,  Shakespeare's  plays,  and  great  fiction — ,classic 
mythology,  and  the  leading  events  and  characters  in 
history.  For  example  :  "A  Daniel  come  to  judgment", 
we  say  about  a  shrewd  decision,  alluding  both  to  the 
prophet  Daniel,  and  to  the  remark  about  Portia,  in 
Merchant  of  Venice;  Portia  herself  is  recognized  by  the 
title  "unlessoned  girl",  alluding  to  her  description  of 
herself;  "His  manner  is  Pecksniffian",  we  say,  allud- 
ing to  Dickens'  character  in  Martin  Chuzzlewit;  "The  con- 
queror of  an  Austerlitz  is  pretty  apt  to  find  himself 
finally  on  a  St.  Helena",  we  say,  alluding  to  the  fate  of 
Napoleon  ;  "His  words  are  dragon  seeds,  whose  growth  is 
armies",  alludes  to  the  myth  of  Cadmus ;  "Get  corn  laws 
established  dealing  in  bread  made  of  Arabian  grain,  the 
Sesame,  which  opens  doors",  alludes  to  the  tale  in 
The  Arabian  Nights;  "Let  Christian  mothers  lead  forth 
their  sons,  saying — 'These  are  my  jewels'  ",  alludes 


124  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

to  Cornelia,  the  mother  of  the  Gracchi.  Allusions  can, 
of  course,  be  looked  up  in  Brewer's  The  Reader's  Hand- 
book,  and  Dictionary  of  Phrase  and  Fable,  or  Smith's  Dic- 
tionary of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography  and  Mythology,  and 
such  books  of  reference.  But  a  course  of  reading 
which  will  make  such  allusions  intelligible  at  once, 
belongs  to  foundational  reading.  The  fourth  course  of 
reading  recommended  is,  therefore,  the  reading  of  the 
classics,  the  mythology,  the  epics,  the  history  and 
biography,  which  the  reader  found  suggested  by  the 
critics  while  pursuing  the  reading  in  Course  Three. 

The  reading  of  this  course  will  not  be  completed 
during  school  days,  but  it  will  be  well  begun.  The 
high  school  graduate  should  know  the  Bible  thorough- 
ly; should  know  eight  or  ten  of  Shakespeare's  plays; 
should  have  read  a  little,  at  least,  of  Homer,  ^Eschylus, 
Sophocles,  Euripides,  Vergil,  Dante,  Spenser,  Milton, 
and  Goethe,  for  these  are  the  great  poets ;  should  know 
something  of  Greek,  Roman,  Norse,  and  Celtic  mythol- 
ogy ;  should  know  the  great  movements  of  European 
history  and  the  names  connected  with  them  ;  and  should 
have  read  the  very  few  (perhaps  twenty)  great  works 
of  fiction — English,  French,  German,  and  Russian — 
which  are  universally  known.  No  two  persons  would 
make  an  identical  list  of  great  prose  fiction,  but  the 
following  will  serve  to  show  what  is  meant  by  founda- 
tion books. 

The  Arabian  Nights   Entertainments,  ^ 
Pilgrim's  Progress. — John  Bunyan.     u^ 
Robinson  Crusoe. — Daniel  De  Foe.     *£/*• 
Gulliver's  Travels.—  Jonathan  Swift. 
Wilhelm  Meister.—  John  Wolfgang  Goethe. 
William  Tell  (drama).—  Friedrich  Schiller. 


COURSES  OF  READING  125 

Les  Miserables.—  Victor  Hugo. 

The  Count  of  Monte  Cristo. — Alexandre  Dumas. 

Pere  Goriot. — Honor e  de  Balzac. 

The  Wandering  Jew. — Eugene  Sue. 

Gil  Bias. — Alain  Le  Sage. 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield.-OZwer  Goldsmith.  ^ 

Waverley.—  Walter  >Scott.  f 

David  Copperfield.— Charles  Dickens.  • 

Vanity  Fair. — William  Makepeace  Thackeray.*^ 

Adam  Bede.  —  George  Eliot. 

Resurrection,— Count  Tolstoi.  ^ 

Last  of  the  •Mohicans.— James  Fenimore  Cooper. 

The  Scarlet  Letter.-  Nathaniel  Hawthorne.       * 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.— Harriet  Beeeher  Stowe      4X 

It  is  a  question  when  masterpieces  should  be  read. 
If  the  reader  does  not  read  these  early,  he  should 
know  that  until  he  does  read  them  he  is  without  founda- 
tion for  judging,  and  enjoying  modern  literature.  It 
has  probably  been  the  practice  of  the  best  readers  to 
read  the  masterpieces  early..  This  leaves  the  later 
years  free  for  the  enjoyment  and  discussion  of  current 
literature.  In  this  case,  the  masterpieces  need  reread- 
ing. Probably  the  wisest  course  is  to  protect  the 
youthful  mind  from  the  great  flood  of  inferior  books 
by  occupying  it  with  classics.  The  only  danger  to  be 
avoided,  in  this  case,  is  a  blind  hero-worship  of  the 
classics,  which  might  prevent,  in  later  years,  the  rank- 
ing of  some  moderns  by  the  side  of  the  classic  writers 
as  they  undoubtedly  deserve  to  be  ranked. 

The  reading  in  this  course  brings  up  the  question 
of  translations.  The  highest  authorities  declare  that 
there  are  entirely  adequate  English  translations  of  the 
literature  of  every  land.  In  his  essay  on  books,  the 
scholarly  Emerson  says:  "I  do  not  hesitate  to  read  all 


126  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

good  books  in  translations.     What  is  really  best  in  any 

book  is  translatable I  rarely  read  any  Greek, 

Latin,  German,  Italian,  sometimes  not  a  French  book, 
in  the  original,  which  I  can  procure  in  a  good  version. 

I  should  as  soon  think  of  swimming  across 

Charles  river  when  I  wish  to  goto  Boston,  as  of  reading 
all  my  books  in  originals,  when  I  have  them  rendered 
for  me  in  my  mother-tongue."  Philip  Gilbert  Hammer- 
ton,  a  great  English  critic,  takes  the  same  view.  He 
says:  "Those  who  care  for  culture  most  earnestly  and 
sincerely,  are  the  very  persons  who  will  economize  time 
to  the  utmost.  Now,  to  read  a  language  that  has  been 
very  imperfectly  mastered  is  felt  to  be  a  bad  economy 
of  time.  Suppose  the  case  of  a  man  who  can  read  the 
original,  but  he  reads  it  so  slowly  that  it  would  cost 
him  more  hours  than  he  can  spare,  and  this  is  why  he 
has  recourse  to  a  translation.  In  this  case  there  is  no 
indifference  to  Greek  culture ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
very  earnestness  of  his  wish  to  assimilate  what  he  can 
of  it  makes  him  prefer  it  in  modern  language."  There- 
fore, remembering  that  the  poet  Keats  knew  not  a  word 
of  Greek,  although,  more  than  most  poets,  he  showed 
evidence  of  Greek  culture,  we  will  enjoy  the  Iliad  in 
the  translation  of  William  Oullen  Bryant,  the  JEncid  in 
William  Morris'  translation  (or  Oonington's),  Dante's 
Divine  Comedy  by  the  aid  of  Longfellow,  and  Goethe's 
Wilhelm  Meister  by  Oarlyle's  masterpiece  of  translation. 

COURSE  FIVE 

Basis:     Historical     Periods.     Purpose:     The 
Tracing:  of  the  Growth  of  a  National  Literature.— 

The   expression  "epoch-making  names"  is  applied  to 


COURSES  OF  READING  127 

writers  as  well  as  to  warriors  and  statesmen.  Great 
names  in  literature  usually  accompany  the  great  names 
in  political  history,  so  that  literature  and  history  can- 
not be  disassociated.  The  tracing  of  the  growth  of  a 
national  literature  is  the  tracing  of  national  history. 
The  history  of  a  nation  is  divided  into  epochs,  and  each 
epoch  is  known  by  the  names  of  the  representative  men 
of  the  epoch,  both  political  and  literary.  This  brings 
into  prominence  a  few  great  men,  to  know  whom  is 
sufficient  for  tracing  national  or  literary  development. 
To  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  few  representative 
writers  of  the  successive  epochs  in  English  and  Ameri- 
can history,  is  a  part  of  the  preparation  that  a  student 
in  school  should  make  for  intelligent  reading  in  after 
years. 

The  fifth  course  of  reading  recommended  is,  there- 
fore, one  which  is  limited  to  the  writers  who  made 
successive  epochs  in  the  history  of  English  and  Ameri- 
can literature.  These  successive  epochs  are  as  fol- 
lows : — 

ENGLISH  LITERATURE. 

THE  AGE  OF  CHAUCER — fourteenth  century;  reign  of 
Edward  III ;  language  Middle  English ;  literature — 
story- telling  verse. 

THE  AGE  or  SPENSER,  SHAKESPEARE,  AND  BACON — six- 
teenth century;  Elizabethan  Age;  language,  Modern 
English ;  printing  in  use ;  literature — romantic  poetry, 
dramatic  poetry,  and  prose  exposition. 

THE  AGE  OF  MILTON,  BUNYAN,  AND  DRYDEN — seven- 
teenth century;  Age  of  Cromwell  and  the  Puritans, 


128  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

and  of  the  Restoration;  literature — religious  creeds  in 
form  of  the  grand  epic  and  the  allegory,  political  satire 
in  the  form  of  drama,  and  philosophy  in  the  form  of 
psychology  and  natural  science  (Locke  and  Isaac 
Newton) . 

THE  AGE  CF  POPE,  SWIFT,  GOLDSMITH,  AND  JOHNSON — 
eighteenth  century ;  Age  of  Queen  Anne ;  the  age  of 
orthodoxy  and  formality ;  literature — mechanical  verse, 
satires,  novels,  essays  in  periodical  publications  (Addi- 
son  and  Steele),  history  (Hume  and  Gibbon),  oratory 
(Burke). 

THE  AGE  OF  WORDSWORTH,  BYRON,  AND  SCOTT — end  of 
eighteenth  century  and  beginning  of  nineteenth  ;  the 
age  of  dissent,  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  of  Ger- 
man philosophy ;  literature — the  second-growth  of 
great  poets  (Coleridge,  Burns,  Moore,  Shelley,  Keats), 
poetry  of  human  passion  and  of  nature,  historical 
romances  and  the  novel  of  manners  (Jane  Austen), 
essays  (Charles  Lamb  and  Thomas  De  Quincey),  literary 
criticism  (Hazlitt). 

THE  MODERN  AGE,  OR  THE  VICTORIAN  AGE — not  yet 
designated  bynames.  Possible  names  for  representing 
the  epoch:  Darwin,  Herbert  Spencer,  Carlyle,  New- 
man, Dickens,  Thackeray,  Macaulay,  Browning,  Tenny- 
son, Arnold. 

AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

THE  AGE  OF  JOHN  SMITH  AND  COTTON  MATHER — First 
Colonial  Period  (1607-1689). 

THE  AGE  OF  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN  AND  JONATHAN  ED- 
WARDS—Second  Colonial  Period  (1689-1763), 


COURSES  OF  READING  129 

THE  AGE  OF  THOMAS  JEFFERSON,  ALEXANDER  HAMIL- 
TON, AND  THOMAS  PAINE— The  Revolutionary  Period 
(1763-1825). 

THE  AGE  OF  EMERSON,  IRVING,  POE,  AND  HAWTHORNE — 
The  First  National  Period  (1815-1861).  Important 
groups  are  :  The  Cambridge  Group — Longfellow,  Lowell, 
Holmes ;  The  Knickerbocker  Group — Irving,  Cooper, 
Bryant;  The  Transcendentalists — Emerson,  Thoreau, 
Hawthorne,  Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli ;  The  Essayists — 
Bayard  Taylor,  George  William  Curtis;  The  Anti- 
Slavery  Group — Whittier,  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe, 
Wendell  Phillips,  Edward  Everett,  William  Lloyd  Gar- 
rison ;  The  Historians — Bancroft,  Prescott,  Parkman, 
Motley;  The  Orators — Lincoln,  Webster,  Sumner, 
Choate,  Channing,  Parker,  Beecher,  Calhoun,  Clay, 
Henry. 

THE  PRESENT  AGE — The  Second  National  Period. 
Possible  names  for  representing  the  epoch  :  Walt.  Whit- 
man, S.  L.  Clemens  (Mark  Twain),  T.  B.  Aldrich,  W. 
D.Howells,  Bret  Harte,  John  Fiske,  Marion  Crawford. 

This  fifth  course,  in  which  the  reader  masters  a 
literature  author  by  author,  from  epoch  to  epoch,  is  the 
foundation  for  judging  what  advance  literature  has 
made  up  to  the  present  time. 

COURSE  SIX 

Basis:  Miscellaneous  Reading*.  Purpose:  The 
Postering:  of  Individual  Interests. — The  preceding 
courses  are  those  which  are  equally  useful  to  everyone. 
But  individual  interests  should  begin  to  occupy  atten- 
tion before  school  days  are  over.  The  reading  of  Course 
One,  which  gives  a  survey  of  the  whole  field  of  interests, 


130  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

should  lead  the  student  to  some  one  great  interest,  or 
to  several  minor  ones ;  such,  for  instance,  as  interest 
'  in  some  public  character,  some  particular  author,  some 
phase  of  religion  or  branch  of  science,  some  part  of  the 
country,  some  craft,  art,  profession,  business  enter- 
prise, or  philanthropy,  or  some  branch  of  literature 
like  the  drama,  or  some  political  policy.  Such  an  in- 
terest points  to  a  career.  Every  girl  and  boy  should, 
as  soon  as  possible,  have  some  career  in  view,  either 
public  or  domestic,  either  in  business  or  in  social  life, 
and  reading  that  will  make  one  intelligent  concerning 
some  career  should  begin  along  with  those  courses 
which  are  the  foundation  for  general  culture. 

An  example  of  such  a  course  is  the  following  one 
which  was  actually  used  as  the  foundation  for  a  pro- 
fession that  involved  public  speaking.  It  represents 
the  character  of  the  reading  needed  by  any  one  who 
intends  to  follow  any  profession  that  may  be  called 
literary.  It  is  a  difficult  course,  suitable  only  for 
advanced  students,  but  every  book  in  it  was  pronounced 
indispensable  by  the  person  who  used  the  course. 

1.  Taine's  History  of  English  Literature.— Trans,  by  Van 

Lann. 

(A  philosophical  history) 

2.  English  Literature.—  Stopford  Brooke. 

(A  text-book) 

3.  Manual  of  English  Prose. — Minto. 

4.  English  Literature,  Vol.  I,  Poetry.— Baldwin. 

5.  English  Prose.—  Earle. 

6.  Studies  in  Early  Victorian  Literature. — Frederic   Har- 

rison. 

(Harrison,  the  supreme  judge) 

7.  Talks  on  the  Study  of  Literature.— Arlo  Bates. 

8.  English  Composition  and   Rhetoric.—  Bain. 

(Good  forFigures,   Sentences,  Orations,  Words,  Rhythm) 


COURSES  OF  READING  131 

9.  Study  of  English  Literature.— if.  Hudson. 

10.  A  Short  History  of  the  English  People.— Green. 

11.  Bible— Job,  Paalms,  Parables. 

12.  Shakespeare. 

(Read  aloud  every  day) 

13.  Pilgrim's  Progress. — Bunyan. 

(Art  in  words,  idioms,  sentences) 

14.  Paradise  Lost.— Books  I,  II.— Milton. 

15.  Divine  Comedy. — Dante. 

16.  Some  Aspects  of  Greek  Genius.— Butcher. 

17.  Imaginary  Conversations. — Landor. 

18.  Plato's  Monologues.— Trans,  by  Jowett. 

(The  best  literary  style  in  the  world) 

19.  Plato  and  Platonism.—  Walter  Pater. 

20.  Homer's  Odyssey,  Horace's  Odes,  Vergil's  Georgics. 

21.  Greek  Poets.—/.  A.  Symonds. 

22.  Pindar's  Odes.— Trans,  by  E,  Myers. 

23.  Cicero's  Letters. 

24.  Lives  of  the  Poets. — Johnson. 

25.  Morte  d'Arthur.  —  Malory. 

26.  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature. — /.  C.  Shairp. 

27.  Poems,  and  Science  of  English  Verse. — Sidney  Lanier. 

28.  Wordsworth's  Sonnets. 

29.  Bacon's  Essays. 

30.  Selections  from  Matthew  Arnold.— Gates, 

(Read  all  essays  about  Arnold) 

31.  Essays  on  Addison  and  Milton. — Macaulay. 

32.  Essays  on  Literature. — De  Quincey. 

33.  Emerson's  Essays. 

84.    Emerson  and  Other  Essays. — John  Jay  Chapman. 

35.  Religio  Medici. — Thos.  Browne. 

(Fine  rhetorical  composition) 

36.  Marcus  Aurelius. 

(For  reserve  and  directness) 

37.  The  French  Revolution.— Carlyle. 

38.  Heroes  and  Hero- Worship. — Carlyle. 

39.  Carlyle's    Essays   on    Voltaire,   Burns,   German    Char- 

acteristics. 
(The  mighty  line.     High  model  of  method  and  manner) 


132  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

40.  Lowell's  Essays. 

41.  Orations,  Addresses,  Essays.—  G.  W.Curtis. 

(Model  for  idiom  and  sentence) 

42.  Virginibus  Puerisque. — It.  L.  Stevenson. 

43.  Revolt  of  the  Tartars.— De  Qmncey. 

44.  Autobiography.— Bertj.  Franklin. 

45.  Boswell's  Johnson. 

46.  Life  of  Macaulay.— Trevelyan. 

(To  see  a  writer  in  process  of  making) 

47.  Grant's  Memoirs. 

48.  Wilhelm  Meister.— Goethe. 

49.  Les  Miserables,  and  Essay  on  Shakespeare.—  Hugo. 

50.  Vanity  Fair. — Thackeray. 

51.  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  and  Essay  on  the  Citizen.— Goldsmith. 

52.  Scott's  Novels. 

53.  Burke's  Speech  on  Conciliation,  and  Letters  to  a  Noble 

Lord. 

54.  Selected  Speeches  by  Webster. 

(Read  aloud  daily) 

55.  Lincoln's  Speeches. 

56.  Selections  from  Milton's  Prose. 

57.  Plutarch's  Lives. 

58.  Selections  from  Gambetta's  Speeches. 

59.  Selections  from  Erskine's  Speeches. 

60.  British  Eloquence.— Goodrich. 

(Introductory  essay  to  Fox) 


CHAPTER  IV 
LITERARY  ART 

"It  is  a  popular  fallacy  that  art  is  to  be  appreciated  with- 
out especial  education.  Common  feeling  holds  that  the 
reader,  like  the  poet,  is  born  and  not  made.  The  only 
element  of  truth  in  this  is  the  fact  that  all  human  powers  are 
modified  by  the  personal  equation.  Every  reader  is  at  liberty 
to  like  or  dislike  even  a  masterpiece;  but  he  is  not  in  a 
position  even  to  have  an  opinion  of  it  until  he  appreciates 
why  it  has  been  admired. " — Arlo  Bates. 

I 

The  Reader's  Art-Sense. — The  first  condition 
for  appreciative  reading  is  the  understanding  of  the 
author's  thought.  This  requires  a  temperament  which 
may  be  described  as  "hospitality  of  mind";  it  is  an 
openness  to  new  ideas,  the  ability  to  look  from  an- 
other's point  of  view,  a  disposition  to  give  respectful 
consideration  where  agreement  is  impossible.  Under- 
standing also  requires  trained  attention  to  words,  in 
order  that  the  writer's  meaning  may  not  be  mistaken. 
The  second  condition  for  appreciative  reading  is  the 
capacity  for  strong  emotion ;  for  it  is  the  sharing  of 
mighty  passions  rather  than  the  receiving  of  merely 
intellectual  impressions  which  constitutes  the  reading 
of  literature.  The  third  condition  for  the  full  appre- 

133 


134  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

elation  of  literature  is  some  knowledge  of  the  technique 
of  the  writer's  art. 

The  good  reader  reads  with  a  cultivated  taste,  as 
well  as  with  understanding  and  feeling.  Taste  is  a 
sense  for  form.  The  reader's  taste  for  form,  for  method 
and  manner,  is  called  his  art-sense.  The  real  appre- 
ciation of  a  writer  consists  more  in  the  appreciation  of 
his  manner  or  method,  than  in  the  appreciation  of  his 
subject.  A  writer's  subject  is  the  common  property  of 
every  man,  to  do  with  it  what  he  can,  and  it  is  likely 
that  the  writer's  ideas  upon  the  subject  are  not  new, 
or  strictly  original.  But  the  method  by  which  a  writer 
makes  a  subject  appear  to  a  reader  with  the  same  force 
and  vividness,  the  same  shadesrrof  meaning,  and  the 
same  emotion,  with  which  it  appears  to  himself,  is  the 
writer's  art,  and  it  is  the  appreciation  of  this  which  is 
the  appreciation  of  literature  as  one  of  the  fine  arts. 

It  is  true  that  any  form  of  art  is  the  product  of  the 
artist's  own  individual  nature,  and  it  might  therefore 
seem  impossible  to  discover  universal  art-character- 
istics; but  observation  of  the  work  of  artists  has 
resulted  in  some  doctrines  which  consti-tute  the  princi- 
ples for  all  art  composition.  The^basis,  then,  for  ap- 
preciative reading  is  not  only  a  reader's  natural  under- 
standing and  feeling,  and  his  natural  instinct  for  good 
form,  but,  in  addition  to  that,  a  cultivated  art-sense, 
developed  by  a  definite  knowledge  of  art  principles, 
and  a  conscious  application  of  them  to  literary  com- 
position. When  a  reader's  art-sense  has  thus  become 
developed,  the  application  of  principles  to  what  is  read 
becomes  an  unconscious  process  in  the  reader's  enjoy- 
ment of  literature. 


LITERARY  ART  135 

II 

The  Thought  Side  and  the  Form  Side  of 
Literary  Composition. — The  value  of  a  literary  com- 
position is,  first  of  all,  the  value  of  its  subject-matter, 
or  what  may  be  called  its  message.  A  writer  is  tested 
primarily  by  the  accuracy  of  his  knowledge,  the  worth 
of  his  ideas,  or  by  what  he  adds  to  human  knowledge 
and  culture.  The  value  of  the  thought-side  of  literary 
composition,  each  reader  must  determine  for  himself, 
judging  by  means  of  his  own  previous  knowledge  of 
the  subject  treated,  by  his. own  wants,  and  by  his 
experience  of  life.  No  directions  can  be  given  for 
appreciating  the  message  of  a  book. 

A  writer's  message  is  his  reason  for  writing,  but 
it  is  not  his  art.  His  power  to  observe  fact  and  dis- 
cover truth  is  a  part  of  his  genius,  but  it  is  not 
his  art.  A  writer's  art  is  his  manner  of  presenting 
his  subject.  Mere  statement  will  not  present  an  idea 
so  as  to  give  it  full  value.  Gradual  development 
and  beautifying  accessories  are  requisite  to  make  a 
writer's  thought  take  effect  upon  a  reader.  The  art 
of  the  writer  consists  in  making  a  subject  appear  to  a 
reader  in  its  most  attractive  form.  The  writer  is  a 
creator  in  the  sense  that  he  creates  a  new  form  with 
which  to  set  forth  some  old  idea.  A  good  literary  form 
is  one  which  is  beautiful  enough  in  itself  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  reader,  and,  at  the  same  time,  is  capa- 
ble of  conveying  to  the  reader's  consciousness  all  that 
is  in  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  writer.  Creating  a 
form  that  will  best  express  what  a  writer  has  to  say,  is 
called  giving  a  subject  an  embodiment.  For  instance, 
Lowell's  poem.  The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal,  embodies  the 


136  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

subject  of  human  brotherhood.  Lowell's  art  consists  in 
using  the  melody  of  verse,  and  an  old  legend,  with 
which  to  construct  a  story  which  is  attractive  in  itself, 
and  by  means  of  which  the  subject  of  human  brother- 
hood is  made  to  reach  the  interest  and  sympathy  of  the 
reader.  The  same  subject  has  been  embodied  by  other 
writers  in  the  art-forms  of  oration,  essay,  and  prose 
fiction.  The  best  art-form  is  the  one  which  gives  the 
greatest  effectiveness  to  the  subject.  When  the  art- 
form  is  so  effective  that  the  thought  which  the  form 
embodies  takes  hold  upon  all  readers,  and  is  adopted  as 
their  own,  then  the  art-form  has  achieved  its  purpose, 
which  is  to  make  thought  imperishable. 

The  thought-side  and  the  form-side  of  literary 
composition  have  an  inseparable  relation.  One  de- 
mands the  other.  Appreciative  reading  consists  in 
paying  attention  to  both  thought  and  form.  Many 
readers  miss  one  or  the  other.  For  instance,  a  casual 
reader  might  enjoy  Lowell's  description  of  June,  find 
interest  in  the  story  of  the  knight,  and  listen  with  pleas- 
ure to  the  music  of  the  lines,  and  yet  miss  the  subject 
of  human  brotherhood,  for  which  every  slightest  detail 
exists.  Another  reader  might  recognize  the  theme 
without  taking  enjoyment  in  all  the  delicate  means  by 
which  the  author's  emotion  for  his  subject  is  revealed, 
and  by  which  the  theme  is  made  effective  upon  the 
reader.  Readers  of  fiction,  particularly,  are  apt  to 
find  pleasure  or  displeasure  in  the  form  alone,  not 
observing  what  is  the  central  theme  for  which  the 
story-form  exists,  and  therefore  not  being  able  to 
judge  whether  the  form  is  good  or  not. 

A.  reader's  basis  for  appreciative  reading,  there- 
fore, partly  consists  in  knowing  that  what  attracts  the 


LITERARY  ART  137 

casual  reader  in  a  literary  composition  is  only  the  form 
which  embodies  some  subject  of  universal  importance, 
and  that  the  form  should  not  be  judged  altogether  by 
its  own  attractiveness  but  largely  by  the  effectiveness 
with  which  it  presents  some  theme. 

Ill 

The  Creation  of  the  Art-Form. — The  creation 
of  the  art-form  is  a  natural,  not  an  artificial  process. 
It  begins  with  an  unconscious  process  in  the  author's 
mind — a  process  of  associating  some  subject  with  the 
author's  own  knowledge,  experience,  and  feelings,  and 
ends  with  the  conscious  effort  to  reproduce  to  others 
the  form  which  the  subject  has  taken  in  the  author's 
own  mind.  This  effort,  though  conscious,  is  not  arti- 
ficial, but  is  the  natural  result  of  the  maturing  of  some 
mental  process,  for  mature  thought  always  seeks  ex- 
pression. 

FIRST  CONDITION  FOR  A  GOOD  ART-FORM. — A  good  art- 
form  is  the  result,  first  of  all,  of  a  subject  of  such  deep 
interest  to  the  writer  that  it  is  held  constantly  in 
thought  without  any  effort  on  the  writer's  part.  This 
is  necessary  because  then  the  mental  faculties  will  con- 
stantly work  upon  the  subject,  associating  it  with  what 
lies  in  the  memory  and  with  what  is  brought  in  by 
daily  experience,  giving  the  subject  a  natural  develop- 
ment. 

The  subject  gradually  begins  to  take  form  around 
some  idea  as  a  center.  This  idea  is  the  germ-thought, 
upon  the  vitality  of  which  the  growth  of  an  art-form 
depends.  For  instance,  Lowell's  interest  in  the  subject 
of  slavery  centered  around  his  belief  in  the  brother- 


138  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

hood  of  man.  This  germ  thought  was  vital  enough  to 
him  to  account  for  the  beautiful  art-form  in  which  it 
found  expression.  It  was  a  vital  germ-thought  to 
Lowell  because  it  was  the  outgrowth  partly  of  his  own 
nature,  and  partly  of  the  anti-slavery  strife  in  which 
he  was  engaged.  A  vital  germ-thought  is  one  which  is 
closely  related  to  the  writer's  usual  interests,  and  to 
his  usual  line  of  thinking  and  feeling. 

With  such  a  germ-thought,  the  material  for  its 
growth  will  be  supplied  in  a  natural  way,  by  the 
writer's  usual  habits  of  thought,  and  his  resources  of 
knowledge  and  experience.  Material  gathered  in  this 
way  is  assimilated  naturally,  and  contributes  to  a  har- 
monious development  of  the  germ ;  whereas,  material 
which  is  collected  by  a  conscious  and  unusual  effort, 
for  the  express  purpose  of  getting  something  to  say 
about  a  subject,  is  not  harmonious  with  the  natural 
condition  of  the  writer's  mind,  and  is  assimilated  very 
slowly,  or  not  at  all.  The  nature  of  the  material,  and 
the  rapidity  with  which  it  is  supplied  to  the  mind, 
depends  upon  the  writer's  stock  of  information,  already 
assimilated  and  laid  up  in  the  memory,  upon  his  power 
to  recall  and  to  associate  what  he  knows,  and  upon  his 
power  to  draw  out  of  his  daily  experience  new  material 
which  will  fit  with  what  is  already  in  his  mind.  Thus 
gradually  the  germ-thought  becomes  expanded  by  the 
addition  of  facts  which  explain  it,  arguments  which  con- 
firm it,  circumstances  which  illustrate  it,  literature 
which  enriches  it,  and  strong  feeling  which  endears  it. 
The  writer  is  usually  unconscious  that  any  growth  of  an 
idea  is  taking  place  in  his  mind,  the  idea  being  one 
that  is  so  thoroughly  a  part  of  his  nature  and  sur- 


LITERARY  ART  139 

roundings  that   material  for    the   growth   is   supplied 
unconsciously. 

Expression  is  the  natural  result  when  the  mental 
growth  has  matured.  The  indication  of  maturity  is  the 
natural  tendency  to  express.  Expression  then  seems 
to  be  the  result  of  a  sudden  inspiration.  When  ex- 
pression is  spontaneous,  it  is  a  sign  that  thought  has 
been  unconsciously  maturing  for  a  long  time.  Whether 
expression  takes  the  form  of  essay,  novel,  drama,  poem, 
or  oration,  depends  upon  the  familiarity  of  the  writer 
with  the  different  literary  forms.  The  form  may  be 
the  result  of  conscious  choice ;  but  if  the  mind  is 
equally  familiar  with  all  forms,  it  will,  by  unconscious 
process,  give  the  material  that  form  which  is  best 
suited  to  it,  or  the  form  suitable  to  the  occasion  which 
calls  it  forth. 

When  the  unconscious  process  of  (Development  be- 
comes conscious,  then  success  in  perfecting  the  art- 
form  becomes  dependent  upon  something  else  besides 
having  a  subject  which  will  allow  of  a  natural  mental 
development. 

SECOND  CONDITION  FOR  A  GOOD  ART-FORM. — A  good 
art-form  is  the  result,  in  the  second  place,  of  acquired 
skill  in  the  use  of  some  medium  of  expression.  The 
sculptor's  medium  of  expression  is  marble;  the  mu- 
sician's is  sound;  the  painter's  is  color;  the  literary 
artist's  is  words.  No  artist  can  express  himself  until 
he  masters  the  use  of  the  medium  with  which  he  works. 
Even  an  experienced  artist  must  patiently  labor  with 
his  medium  in  order  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  own 
taste.  Mastery  of  a  medium  of  expression  consists  in 


140  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

revealing  through  that  medium  all  that  the  imagina- 
tion has  created. 

The  artist  in  words  has  the  same  mechanical  diffi- 
culties to  overcome  that  an  artist  in  any  other  medium 
has.  He  cannot  hope  to  give  his  thought  art-form  in 
language  without  having  previously  made  himself  ac- 
quainted with  the  possibilities  of  language,  by  close 
observation  of  the  art  of  the  best  writers.  The  training 
which  should  precede  any  attempt  at  artistic  expres- 
sion, consists  (1)  in  getting  a  thorough  acquaint- 
ance with  words — their  derivation,  their  relation- 
ships, their  capabilities  for  conveying  delicate  shades 
of  thought  and  feeling,  their  connoting  power, 
and  the  possibilities  in  the  way  they  may  be  asso- 
ciated; (2)  in  getting  acquainted  with  sentence- 
forms — their  variety  and  their  possibilities  for  pro- 
ducing rhythmical  effects;  (3)  in  experimenting  with 
language,  and  observing  the  effect  of  his  own  attempts — 
how  his  language  falls  short  of  expressing  the  idea, 
how  ambiguity  is  produced  by  carelessly  placed  phrases, 
and  what  constitutes  an  effective  or  ineffective  ar- 
rangement of  words.  For  judging  his  own  attempts, 
the  writer's  standard  is  one  which  he  has  formed  for 
himself  by  being  familiar  with  the  art  of  others. 

Thus  the  writer  gradually  acquires  skill  in  the  use 
of  language  as  a  medium  for  expression,  so  that  what- 
ever his  mind  creates,  his  language  is  adequate  to  ex- 
press. The  writer  then  appears  to  his  readers  not  only 
as  a  thinker,  a  discoverer  and  revealer  of  truth,  but 
also  as  an  artist  in  language.  There  will  be  perfect 
correspondence  between  the  thing  imagined  and  the 


LITERARY  ART  141 

thing  expressed ;  in  other  words,  thought  will  have  an 
adequate  embodiment. 

IV 

A  Summary  of  Literary  Art. — There  are  some 
characteristics  which  are  found  in  any  good  writing, 
whatever  be  its  form,  and  which  have,  therefore,  come 
to  be  regarded  as  the  essentials  of  literary  art.  The 
reader  is  without  a  basis  for  judging  literary  composi- 
tion until  he  has  become  so  accustomed  to  noticing 
these  essentials  that  he  feels  a  sense  of  loss  when 
any  are  lacking. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  essentials  of  literary 
art,  given  in  tbe  order  of  their  importance,  or  in  the 
order  of  their  dependence  one  upon  another.  Each 
characteristic  is  an  essential,  but  some  are  the  founda- 
tion for  others ;  for  instance,  without  the  first  the 
second  has  no  foundation,  without  the  first  five  the  last 
five  are  worthless,  and  the  first  five  without  the  last 
five  are  ineffective. 

1.  A  definite  theme,  possibly  other  than  the  title, 
which  becomes  clearly  apparent  to  the  reader. 

2.  Material  which  explains,  illustrates,  and  beauti- 
fies the  theme,  and  which  has  had  its  source  in  alert 
observation,  thorough  reflection,  sincere  emotion,  and 
wide  reading. 

3.  A  plan  which  makes  thought  progress  in  a  regu- 
lar sequence. 

4.  Divisions  by  means  of  which  the  reader  can  see 
the  steps  of  shis  progression. 

5.  A   conclusion   which  is  inevitable,  and  which 
serves  to  show  what  has  been  the  writer's  constant  pur- 
pose throughout  the  writing. 


142  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

6.  An   introduction  which  makes  the  theme  at- 
tractive. 

7.  Diction   which   is   pure,  precise,  and  in  good 
taste. 

8.  Sentences  which  have  unity,  clearness,  variety 
of  construction,  and  which  are  forcible  and  melodious. 

9.  Figurative  language  which  increases  the  vivid- 
ness of  the  idea. 

10.  An  appeal  to  the  emotions  by  means  of  the 
beautiful,  the  sublime,  the  witty,  the  humorous,  or 
the  pathetic. 

V 

The  Two    Fundamentals   of  Literary  Art. — 

Every  work  of  art,  of  whatever  kind,  expresses  its  idea 
by  a  form  which  has  two  fundamental  elements ; 
namely,  structure  and  quality.  Whatever  may  be  the 
number  of  details  which  are  essentials,  a  work  of  art 
may  be  judged  by  these  fundariientals  alone.  A  reader 
may  judge  a  literary  composition  by  the  ten  essentials, 
or  he  may  judge  it  in  a  more  comprehensive  way  by 
thinking  of  nothing  but  its  structure  and  quality. 

STRUCTURE. — Structure  is  the  form  into  which 
thought  is  shaped.  It  is  the  framework  which  is 
necessary  in  order  that  the  completed  whole  may  have 
definite  outline.  It  bears  the  same  relation  to  the 
completed  composition  that  an  architect's  plan  bears 
to  the  finished  house.  The  writer,  like  the  architect, 
consciously  builds  his  material  together,  shaping  and 
placing  each  bit  of  material,  studying  the  effect  of  this 
and  that  grouping,  working  all  the  time  to  get  a  har- 
monious effect  by  the  union  of  many  details.  The 


LITERARY  ART  143 

reader  judges  structure  by  the  ease  with  which  he  can 
take  in  the  composition  as  a  whole,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  be  conscious  of  the  effectiveness  of  parts.  Walter 
Pater  says  that  a  literary  composition  has  structure  if 
the  reader  can  recognize  that  the  author  has  "foreseen 
the  end  in  the  beginning,  and  has  never  lost  sight  of  it, 
and  in  every  part  has  been  conscious  of  all  the  rest. 
Ruskin's  rule  for  structure  is  :  "Everything  in  a  deter- 
mined place,  everything  performing  an  intended  part, 
and  acting  in  that  part  advantageously  for  everything 
connected  with  it."  This  is  another  way  of  saying 
that  structure  is  the  result  of  having  had  a  plan. 
According  to  Pater,  having  a  plan  is  having  "a  whole- 
ness of  view  at  the  beginning,  with  many  after- 
thoughts." It  is  this  wholeness  of  view  at  the  begin- 
ning that  insures  the  effective  use  of  each  bit  of  mate- 
rial. Structure  gives  strength  to  a  composition,  and 
gives  the  impression  that  the  writer  has  a  definite  pur- 
pose. Whatever  graces  of  style  a  composition  may  have, 
the  demand,  first  of  all,  is  that  it  be  well-built. 

QUALITY. — Quality  is  an  effect  produced  by  the 
writer's  personality.  It  is  the  manner  of  saying  any- 
thing, and  is  called  the  writer's  style.  It  is  an  effect 
upon  a  reader's  sensibilities  like  that  produced  by  meet- 
ing with  a  person  who  has  strong  individuality,  and  it 
is  what  creates  an  emotional  response  to  what  is  being 
read.  The  effect  is  indefinable  and  unexplainable,  just 
as  personal  attractiveness  is.  Since  "the  style  is  the 
man",  those  words  which  describe  personal  quality — 
such  as  graceful,  piquant,  arch,  suave,  robust,  grave, 
lofty — describe  also  the  quality  of  literature.  The 
best  writer  is  the  one  who  has  strong  enough  person- 


144  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

ality  to  make  it  felt  in  his  literary  form.  Writing  may 
be  without  quality,  just  as  a  person  may  be  without 
individuality;  but  as  a  person's  attractiveness  is  meas- 
ured by  the  strength  of  his  personality,  so  the  grade  of. 
writing  is  determined  by  its  quality. 

Structure  and  quality  are  the  two  fundamentals  of 
literary  art  because  art  is  self-expression,  and,  since 
most  ideas  and  material  are  common  property,  the  only 
opportunity  a  writer  has  for  self-expression  is  to  build 
old  material  together  in  some  new  form,  and  to  transfer 
himself  to  the  written  page. 

The  Elements  of  Structure. — In  order  to  appre- 
ciate structure,  the  reader  needs  to  have  a  clear  idea 
of  the  elements  of  structure,  and  the  relation  they  bear 
to  one  another.  All  critics  do  not  agree  about  the 
number  of  elements,  but  the  reader  has  a  sufficient 
basis  for  recognizing  structure  if  he  has  a  clear  idea  of 
unity,  coherence,  emphasis,  and  proportion.  All  agree 
that  these  are  fundamental,  but  all  do  not  use  the 
same  names  for  the  same  elements.  A  reader  needs  a 
clear  enough  idea  of  the  nature  of  these  fundamentals 
to  recognize  them  under  any  name. 

UNITY. — A  composition  has  unity  when  a  reader 
gets  a  definite  impression  about  one  theme.  Success 
in  achieving  unity  depends  upon  the  writer's  power  to 
leave  one,  single,  clear  impression,  no  matter  how 
much  has  been  said.  The  reader  recognizes  unity  by 
the  single  theme  which  remains  in  his  mind  after  the 
amplifying  details  have  been  forgotten.  The  reader 
gets  this  single  impression  because  the  writer  has  had 
one  definite  theme  in  his  own  mind  to  start  with,  has 
constantly  borne  it  in  mind,  has  used  no  material  that 


LITERARY  ART  145 

did  not  bear  evident  relation  to  the  theme,  and  has 
successfully  estimated  how  far  his  theme  could  be 
elaborated  without  losing  definiteness  of  impression. 
The  problem  of  unity  is  the  problem  of  what  is  rele- 
vant and  what  is  digression  in  using  material  to  amplify 
a  theme.  In  literary  art,  the  unity  of  the  composition 
as  a  whole  consists  in  having  the  theme  of  each  para- 
graph bear  an  evident  relation  to  the  theme  of  the 
whole  composition. 

PARAGRAPH  UNITY. — Paragraphs  are  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  the  steps  of  the  progress  in  a  theme's  devel- 
opment. The  reader  expects  to  find  that  each  para- 
graph is  one  complete  step  forward  in  his  progress 
towards  some  end.  Therefore,  each  paragraph  must 
have  a  single  theme,  so  definite  that  it  can  be  reduced 
to  a  single  statement.  This  statement  may  be  made 
in  a  topic  sentence,  or  else  the  reader  should  be  able 
to  make  it  easily  for  himself  after  having  read  the  para- 
graph. This  theme  should  be  one  that  is  different 
from  that  of  any  other  paragraph,  so  that  the  separate- 
ness  which  appears  to  the  eye  shall  be  found  to  corre- 
spond with  the  separateness  of  the  thought.  The 
length  of  the  paragraph  is  determined  by  the  principle 
that  each  paragraph  shall  contain  all  the  material 
which  explains  or  illustrates  a  certain  theme,  so  that 
following  paragraphs  may  each  have  a  different  theme. 
If  a  paragraph  is  too  long  for  comfortable  reading, 
the  theme  of  the  paragraph  is  branched  into  two  or 
more  phases,  giving  each  phase  a  separate  paragraph. 
The  two  essentials  for  paragraph  unity  are,  first,  that 
the  paragraph  have  one  definite  theme,  to  the  explana- 
tion of  which  every  sentence  directly  contributes,  and, 


146  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

second,  that  the  theme  of  the  paragraph  be  distinctly 
different  from  that  of  any  other  paragraph. 

SENTENCE  UNITY. — A  sentence  represents  one  com- 
plete statement.  The  reader  expects  to  find  that  the 
words  which  are  set  off  in  a  separate  sentence  represent 
the  amount  that  he  is  to  take  in  as  a  whole  ;  if  it  is  not 
a  whole,  but  an  incomplete  statement,  or  a  group  of 
unrelated  statements,  the  reader  is  confused  by  the 
sentence  form.  The  careful  writer  uses  the  sentence 
to  measure  off  the  amount  which  he  wishes  the  reader 
to  comprehend  at  one  time.  The  length  of  the  sen- 
tence is  always  determined  by  this  purpose  on  the  part 
of  the  writer,  and  the  period  should  therefore  be 
heeded  as  the  means  by  which  the  writer  controls  the 
thought  of  the  reader.  The  writer  has  clearly  in  mind 
the  one  statement  he  wishes  to  make,  and  he  modifies 
it  by  word,  phrase,  or  clause,  until  he  thinks  it  cannot 
be  misapprehended.  The  sentence,  therefore,  is  usually 
composed  of  parts,  and  its  unity  consists  in  having  one 
main  subject  and  predicate,  just  as  the  paragraph  has 
one  theme,  and  only  such  additions  as  modify  this  one 
subject  and  predicate. 

PUNCTUATION. — Punctuation  is  used  to  show  the 
number  of  parts  in  a  sentence  and  the  relation  between 
the  parts.  The  unity  of  a  long  sentence  becomes  ap- 
parent to  a  reader  when  he  can  see  the  parts  which 
compose  it;  and  so  the  writer  uses  punctuation  to 
measure  off  the  parts  to  the  eye,  in  order  that  each 
part  may  have  its  full  effect  upon  the  reader's  mind. 
Any  one  can  punctuate  who  consciously  measures  off 
his  thought  with  the  purpose  just  described,  for  then 
he  is  conscious  of  how  many  parts  there  are  in  his  sen- 


LITERARY  ART  147 

tence,  and  how  much  he  intends  to  be  taken  as  one 
part.  Punctuation  thus  becomes  as  truly  a  part  of 
composition  as  is  the  choice  of  words.  It  is  a  part  of 
one's  thinking,  a  part  of  the  scheme  by  which  writing 
can  be  made  to  produce  a  certain  effect  upon  a  reader. 
Punctuation  should  be  an  individual  matter,  instead  of 
a  mechanical  following  of  rules,  and  is  satisfactory  if  it 
indicates  to  the  eye  all  the  parts  of  a  sentence  which 
need  to  be  taken  separately  in  order  to  get  the  full 
effect  of  the  whole.  The  rules  of  punctuation  are  all 
based  on  the  principle  that  the  reader  needs  to  see  the 
parts  which  compose  a  sentence  unity.  The  different 
kinds  of  punctuation  are  used  to  show  the  relation 
between  parts. 

The  semicolon  shows  parts  that  are  co-ordinate.  It 
usually  stands  between  two  grammatically  complete 
statements,  each  of  which  might  stand  alone  as  a  sen- 
tence, and  are  therefore  co-ordinate  in  value.  Or  it  is 
used  to  give  separateness  to  a  list  of  details  which 
stand  out  in  co-ordinate  relation. 

The  comma  shows  parts  that  are  not  co-ordinate, 
such  as  dependent  phrases  or  words,  parenthetical  ex- 
pressions, and  even  clauses  when  the  clause  is  added 
in  such  a  way  as  to  give  a  subordinate  rather  than  a  co- 
ordinate effect.  Sometimes  the  subject  of  a  verb  is  a 
phrase  which  is  so  long  that  it  is  a  part  by  itself,  and  of 
course  its  relation  is  a  dependent  one,  and  is  indicated 
by  a  comma.  The  use  of  the  comma  to  mark  an  ellipsis 
makes  the  comma  stand  in  the  place  of  a  part. 

The  colon  is  used  to  introduce  something.  It  stands 
between  the  thing  introduced  and  some  formal  remark 
of  introduction.  The  thing  introduced  may  be  a  list 


148  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

of  items,  a  quotation,  some  important  or  long  remark, 
or  a  remark  which  is  itself  divided  by  semicolons.  The 
colon  is  formal  in  effect,  and  when  the  introduction  is 
informal,  the  part  introduced  is  indicated  by  comma. 

The  dash  shows  such  parts  as  are  abrupt  or  unex- 
pected, such  as  a  repetition,  a  slipped-in  explanation, 
a  parenthesis,  or  a  sudden  change  in  thought. 

Of  course,  these  are  only  general  principles  of  dis- 
tinction— a  mere  basis  for  observing  the  great  variety 
of  special  cases,  for  punctuation,  like  everything  else, 
can  be  learned  only  by  observation  and  experiment. 

COHERENCE.— Coherence  in  the  whole  composi- 
tion, in  paragraph,  or  in  sentence,  is  the  logical  succes- 
sion of  parts.  By  unity  of  structure  we  mean  that  the 
parts  bear  an  evident  relation  to  the  one  main  theme ; 
by  coherence  we  mean  that  successive  parts  bear  an 
evident  relation  to  one  another.  When  a  reader  fol- 
lows easily  from  one  part  to  the  next,  the  writing  is 
said  to  have  coherence.  It  is  this  which  makes  easy 
reading.  The  problem  of  coherence  is  the  problem  of 
the  best  order  in  which  to  arrange  parts  so  that  they 
will  follow  one  another  logically — in  other  words,  so 
that  there  will  be  sequence.  Success  in  getting  coher- 
ence is  success  in  arranging  thought.  The  giving  of 
right  order  to  material  is  not  a  mechanical  process  for 
which  rules  can  be  given ;  it  is  the  result  of  logical 
thinking.  When  a  writer's  style  is  coherent,  the  re- 
lation of  successive  parts  is  so  evident  that  there 
is  no  impression  of  parts,  but  an  impression  of  a 
whole.  For  this  reason,  unity  and  coherence  seem  to 
be  the  same  until  one  sees  that  the  problem  of  each  is 
different,  and  that  the  unity  secured  by  having  every- 


LITERARY  ART  149 

thing  relevant  to  one  theme,  is  hardly  a  perfect  unity 
until  the  parts  cohere  by  means  of  logical  arrange- 
ment, 

EMPHASIS. — A  composition  is  said  to  have  em- 
phasis if  it  has  parts  that  are  more  noticeable  than 
other  parts.  Every  writer  in  his  own  mind  sees  some 
parts  of  his  composition  as  more  important  than  others ; 
his  ideas  have  not  sameness  to  himself  and  they  should 
not  have  to  the  reader.  Giving  some  parts  of  his  com- 
position prominence,  so  that  the  reader's  mind  has 
some  points  upon  which  to  catch  with  greater  atten- 
tion, relieves  the  monotony  of  an  arrangement  which 
is  merely  logical.  The  problem  of  emphasis,  like  that 
of  coherence,  is  a  problem  of  arrangement,  but  ar- 
rangement for  a  different  purpose.  Coherence  is  log- 
ical arrangement,  and  emphasis  is  effective  arrange- 
ment. To  achieve  both  without  loss  to  either  is  the 
nicest  problem  in  structure. 

Emphasis  is  secured  by  means  of  certain  positions 
and  forms  in  the  composition.  There  are  locations  in  a 
composition,  a  paragraph,  and  a  sentence,  which  are  so 
prominent  that  attention  is  called  to  an  idea  by  placing 
it  there.  The  beginning  and  the  end  of  a  composition, 
of  a  paragraph,  or  of  a  sentence,  is  a  prominent  position. 
There  are  also  paragraph  and  sentence  forms  which  give 
prominence  to  an  idea.  A  very  short  paragraph  or  a 
very  short  sentence  is  prominent.  A  paragraph  which 
treats  a  theme  at  a  length  which  does  not  correspond 
with  the  general  scale  of  treatment  is  a  prominent  par- 
agraph. A  series  of  short  paragraphs  all  treating  the 
same  subject  attracts  attention.  The  order  of  climax 
and  the  order  of  antithesis  are  conspicuous.  Periodic, 


150  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

balanced,  and  interrogative  sentences,  are  emphatic 
sentence  forms.  Reiteration  at  stated  intervals  is 
noticeable.  Breaking  the  logical  flow  of  thought  by  a 
short  description  or  anecdote  which  leads  up  to  the  next 
thought,  makes  that  thought  emphatic.  A  figure  of 
speech  well  fitted  into  a  logical  structure  gives  accent 
to  an  idea.  The  author  who  attends  to  emphasis  in 
building  his  structure  reserves  these  locations  and 
forms  for  the  ideas  which  he  wishes  to  emphasize,  in- 
stead of  using  them  indiscriminately. 

PROPORTION. — A  composition  has  proportion 
when  each  part  is  given  the  amount  of  space  it  should 
occupy  relatively  to  every  other  part  and  to  the  whole. 
Both  emphasis  and  proportion  serve  to  show  the  rela- 
tive importance  of  parts,  emphasis  by  means  of  position 
and  of  form,  proportion  by  means  of  the  amount  of  space 
occupied.  It  is  a  bad  defect  in  structure  to  give  an 
undue  and  uncalculated  amount  of  space  to  any  one 
part.  The  problem  of  proportion  is  the  problem  of  giv- 
ing to  each  part  of  the  composition  a  length  of  treat- 
ment which  is  justified  by  the  relative  importance  of 
that  part  to  other  parts  of  the  whole.  It  is  the  same 
problem  that  a  map-maker  has.  A  map  is  made  upon 
a  uniform  scale ;  the  size  of  everything  put  upon  the 
map  is  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  everything  else  ;  also, 
what  is  put  upon  the  map  and  what  must  be  omitted 
from  it,  is  determined  by  the  size  of  the  scale  adopted. 
A  writer  adopts  a  scale  of  treatment,  large  or  small, 
according  to  the  limits  which  circumstances  require, 
and  he  preserves  that  scale  throughout.  He  tests  all 
his  material  by  this  scale,  using  only  that  which  will 
preserve  the  balance  of  the  whole.  This  equipoise  of 


LITERARY  ART  151 

parts  completes  the  unity,  coherence,  and  emphasis  of 
parts,  making  together  what  is  called  the  structure 
of  literary  art. 

SUMMARY  OF  STRUCTURE.— The  purpose  of 
structure  is  to  present  a  unit — "a  body,  not  a  mere 
collection  of  members."  The  several  elements  of 
structure  contribute  to  this  oneness  of  effect.  When 
parts  are  all  relevant  to  one  theme  and  follow  one  an- 
other logically,  and  when  each  part  has  its  effective 
position  or  form  and  its  due  proportion  of  space,  then 
parts  have  the  effect  of  a  whole.  When  this  is  accom- 
plished, writing  has  the  fundamental  requisite  of  all 
art — namely,  unity  of  design. 

The  Elements  of  Quality. — In  attempting  to 
analyze  quality,  or  the  writer's  personality,  critics  do 
not  agree  about  the  number  of  elements  nor  their 
names.  All  elements  of  human  nature  are  elements 
of  literary  quality,  and  any  words  used  to  describe  per- 
sonal quality  are  used  to  describe  the  quality  of  litera- 
ture. The  attempt  of  critics  is  to  find  a  few  terms 
general  enough  in  meaning  to  describe  the  quality  which 
is  found  in  every  work  of  literary  art.  It  is  quite  gen- 
erally agreed  that  what  every  writer  reveals  of  himself 
in  literature  is  the  clearness  of  his  mind,  the  energy  of 
his  nature,  his  musical  sense,  and  his  aesthetic  emotions- 
emotions  of  beauty,  of  sublimity,  of  humor,  and  of 
pathos,  and  that  therefore  the  quality  of  writing  is  its 
clearness,  energy,  melody,  and  emotion. 

CLEARNESS.— Present  criticism  uses  the  term 
clearness  to  express  the  nature  of  the  author's  mental 
processes,  and  the  ease  with  which  the  reader  can  follow 
these  processes.  Clearness  is  a  quality  that  a  writer 


162  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

gives  to  his  composition  primarily  because  of  his  power  to 
define  his  ideas  clearly  to  himself,  and  secondarily 
because  of  his  experience  with  language.  He  not  only 
thinks  clearly,  but,  because  of  this,  he  observes  those 
laws  of  language  that  are  natural  to  a  logical  mind, 
instinctively  rejecting  irrelevant  material  or  slovenly 
phrasing,  and  so  expresses  his  clear  thought  in  language 
equally  clear.  The  quality  of  clearness  seems  to  depend 
entirely  upon  grammatical  accuracy,  unity  and  coher- 
ence of  structure,  and  upon  the  completeness  of  ex- 
planation and  illustration.  But  this  is  the  craft  side 
of  clearness.  These  mechanical  means  convey  an  idea 
which  has  first  been  clear  in  itself  and  which  demands 
this  sort  of  expression.  So  we  conclude  that  the  quality 
called  clearness  is  the  effect  upon  us,  through  language, 
of  the  depth  and  clearness  of  the  writer's  mind. 

Olear  writing  requires  precise  words,  which  exactly 
express  the  meaning,  as  many  words  as  are  needed  and 
no  more,  no  omission  of  small  words  which  are  neces- 
sary to  the  sense,  no  careless  misuse  of  pronouns  and 
participles,  the  use  of  enough  connectives,  the  careful 
placing  of  phrases  and  clauses,  and  the  organizing  of 
thought  so  that  the  expression  of  it  has  unity  and  co- 
herence of  structure.  Olear  writing  requires  not  only 
this  use  of  language,  which  is  instinctive  to  a  clear  think- 
er, but  also  requires  conformity  to  arbitrary  grammatical 
usage,  so  that  there  will  be  nothing  about  the  language 
to  distract  attention  from  the  thought  or  obscure  its 
meaning. 

There  is  another  consideration  which  affects  the 
reader's  impression  of  clearness.  An  author  is  compre- 
hensible only  as  his  ideas  correspond  with  what  the 


LITERARY  ART  153 

reader  has  experienced  or  can  imagine  to  be  true.  If 
an  author's  ideas  are  beyond  the  range  of  the  reader's 
mind,  the  author  will  be  obscure  to  that  reader  though 
he  is  clear  to  another.  So  clearness,  like  all  quality,  is 
not  absolute,  but  relative  to  the  reader's  development. 
The  author  who  has  a  general  reputation  for  clearness 
is  the  one  who  has  something  to  say  which  is  within 
the  range  of  universal  knowledge  and  experience. 
Writings  which  become  classic  have  this  universality — 
that  is,  they  mean  something  to  every  one,  though 
limited  minds  will  not  see  in  them  all  that  there  is 
to  be  seen.  A  literary  masterpiece  may  be  defined  as 
a  composition  which  reveals  some  meaning  to  every 
reader  with  whatever  views  of  life,  a  new  meaning  to 
the  reader  as  often  as  he  approaches  the  masterpiece 
with  some  new  view  of  life,  and  a  fresh  meaning  to 
every  generation  of  readers  in  spite  of  the  changing 
views  of  life.  % 

There  is  a  vocabulary  of  critical  terms  useful  to  the 
reader  who  may  wish  to  express  himself  about  the  clear- 
ness of  what  he  reads. 

In  speaking  of  the  quality  of  mind  which  conduces 
to  literary  clearness,  we  say  that  the  author  has : — 

Compass  Insight 

Kange  Vision 

Grasp  Scope 

that  he  is  :-^- 

Thorough  Broad 

Sane  Profound 

In  speaking  of  the  lack  of  this  quality  we  say  that 

he  is : — 

Narrow  Abstruse 

Restricted  Provincial 


154  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

In  speaking  of  the  way  an  author  expresses  the 
•clearness  of  his  mind  through  his  language,  we  say  that 
his  style  is  : — 

Definite  Graphic 

Explicit  Transparent 

Intelligible  Luminous 

Straightforward     -     Lucid 
or  else  that  it  is: — 

Ambiguous  Obscure 

Vague  Puzzling 

In  speaking   of  an  author's  structure  as  contrib- 
uting to  clearness,  we  say  that  his  style  is : — 
Complete  Connected 

Consistent  Continuous 

Sustained  Homogeneous 

or  else  that  it  is : — 

Digressive  Disconnected 

Discursive  Disjointed 

Desultory  Rambling 

ENERGY. — Energy  is  that  quality  in  writing 
which  holds  the  attention  of  the  reader.  The  com- 
pelling power  of  a  writer  lies  in  himself,  not  in  the 
subject  that  he  is  treating.  The  subject  may  be  com- 
monplace, the  ideas  in  no  way  extraordinary,  and  yet 
the  natural  energy  which  a  vigorous  personality  puts 
into  whatever  he  has  to  say  commands  attention. 
Writing  which  has  the  quality  of  energy  makes  the 
reader  feel  sure  that  the  writer  is  sincere  and  that  he 
writes  with  a  purpose.  The  forcible  writer  seems  to 
"move  forward  under  the  influence  of  his  own  clear 
knowledge  and  deep  feeling,  with  constantly  acceler- 
ated motion,  and  constantly  increasing  momentum, 


LITERARY  ART  155 

to  a  definite  coilclusion  that  has  been  constantly  in  his 
mind."  The  reader  feels  that  he  is  carried  along  with 
the  writer,  and  that  the  conclusion  is  inevitable. 

There  are  some  external  signs  of  this  energy  of 
mind.  The  most  noticeable  is  the  writer's  choice  of 
single  words.  A  vigorous  writer  with  a  thought  which 
he  considers  vital,  uses  a  vocabulary  quite  unlike  that 
used  by  a  calmer  nature.  The  sympathy  which  he 
feels  with  the  reader  and  with  his  subject  rouses  his 
energy  to  seek  such  words  as  may  be  trusted  to  reach 
the  intelligence  of  the  reader,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
give  his  subject  an  adequate  expression.  There  is 
always  the  one  word  which  is  the  right  one  for  the 
place,  and  when  it  is  once  spoken  it  seems  to  be  the 
inevitable  word,  but  it  is  usually  the  result  of  the  most 
earnest  determination  on  the  part  of  the  writer  to  do 
full  justice  to  his  thought  and  to  his  reader.  It  is  in 
this  that  the  writer  shows  a  personality  that  is  capable 
of  taking  such  an  affectionate  interest  in  his  subject 
that  no  sacrifice  of  time  or  effort  is  too  great  in  order 
that  the  subject  may  have  an  expression  that  will 
make  it  appeal  to  his  readers  as  it  has  to  himself. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  a  full  comprehension  of  an 
author  and  sympathy  with  him,  requires  a  close  observa- 
tion of  his  use  of  words.  It  is  not  enough  that  the  reader 
know  by  definition  what  words  mean.  With  such  a  for- 
mal knowledge  of  words,  the  reader  might  apprehend  an 
author's  meaning,  but  not  comprehend  it.  The  reader 
must  learn  to  recognize  a  personality  in  the  way  words 
are  used.  The  way  an  author  uses  nouns,  adjectives, 
and  verbs,  and  the  new  meanings  he  puts  into  words  by 
the  way  he  associates  them,  convey  delicate  shades 


156  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

of  thought  and  feeling  to  a  careful  observer.  Words 
not  only  denote  a  meaning,  but  they  connote,  or  make 
one  think  of  something  beyond  what  they  literally 
say.  The  word  damozel,  for  instance,  arouses  ideas  of 
old  tapestries,  and  of  noble  ladies  and  mailed  knights 
in  castles,  whereas  the  world  girl,  which  denotes  the 
same  thing,  makes  us  think  of  a  girl  and  of  nothing  else, 
and  therefore  does  not  connote  anything.  Only  by  feel- 
ing what  words  connote,  in  addition  to  knowing  what 
they  denote,  can  a  reader  grasp  the  full  intention 
which  a  forcible  writer  puts  into  his  vocabulary. 
Therefore  a  reader  should  have  early  had  a  preparation 
for  reading  by  a  study  of  words — their  derivation,  his- 
tory, synonymous  uses,  and  their  associations  in  litera- 
ture. 

Another  external  sign  of  energy  of  mind  is  that 
words  are  not  wasted ;  a  general  effect  of  condensation 
is  noticeable  in  all  writing  which  has  the  quality  of 
energy.  The  writer  hastens  to  his  point  with  all  the 
directness  that  the  securing  of  clearness  and  impress- 
iveness  will  allow.  There  is  nothing  which  makes 
clear,  condenses,  and  impresses  more  than  good  figures 
of  speech,  so  a  forcible  writer  makes  much  use  of  them. 
In  the  use  of  figures,  as  in  the  use  of  words,  sympathy  is 
the  secret  of  his  choice.  Sympathy  with  the  average 
man  makes  the  writer  use  only  such  figures  as  the 
average  man  will  find  effective.  A  forcible  figure  of 
speech  likens  one  thing  to  another  thing  with  which 
everybody  is  familiar,  and  the  analogy  is  one  that 
will  be  instantly  perceived. 

Another  noticeable  sign  of  a  writer's  force  of  char- 
acter is  that  he  does  not  neglect  structure.  He  builds 


LITERARY  ART  157 

well,  laying  the  foundation  of  unity  and  coherence  be- 
fore he  allows  his  ardent  nature  the  pleasure  of  em- 
phasis. 

A  forcible  writer  sometimes  disregards  good  usage, 
obeying  only  his  intense  emotions.  This  IB  considered 
good  art  if  the  reader  finds  a  correspondence  between 
the  writer's  evident  state  of  mind  and  his  form  of  ex- 
pression. A  reader's  taste  may  find  in  the  intensity 
of  thought  a  justification  for  violating  the  convention- 
alities of  ordinary  expression. 

There  are  other  names  besides  "energy"  which 
describe  the  impression  made  upon  the  reader  by  this 
quality.  It  may  be  called  : — 

Force  Terseness 

Life  Strength 

Vigor  Impressiveness 

In  speaking  of  the  forcible  writer's  personality,  we 
say  that  he  has  : — 

Fervor  Ardor 

Spirit  Power 

Enthusiasm  Sincerity 
or  else  that  he  is  : — 

Feeble  Flat 

Insipid  Vapid 

Tame  Weak 

If  this  quality  in  a  writer  is  not  controlled  by  good 
taste  and  reason,  then  we  say  that  his  writing  is : — 

Rash  Frantic 

Impetuous  Violent 

Hysterical  Vehement 


158  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

MELODY. — Melody  is  that  quality  in  a  writing 
which  pleases  the  ear  by  agreeable  sound.  The  per- 
sonality which  is  revealed  through  melody  of  language 
is  one  which  is  highly  emotional,  with  restraint  enough 
to  give  the  impression  of  elegance.  Melody  of  lan- 
guage indicates  a  higher  degree  of  emotion  than  is  in- 
dicated by  the  quality  of  energy.  The  writer  who  has 
energy  of  style  seems  never  to  lose  sight  of  his  audience 
and  of  his  definite  aim  ;  the  writer  whose  style  is  melo- 
dious seems  to  lose  consciousness  of  an  audience,  and 
to  be  completely  absorbed  in  a  passionate  realization 
of  some  subject,  expression  being  a  natural  overflow  of 
feeling.  One  writer  exhibits  a  passion  for  influencing 
his  fellows;  the  other,  a  passion  for  some  subject.  A 
forcible  writer  will,  for  moments,  seem  to  forget  his 
audience,  and  become  wholly  absorbed  in  a  passionate 
realization  of  his  theme,  his  language  then  becoming 
rhythmical.  In  prose,  musical  quality  is  usually  found 
in  climaxes  of  feeling,  here  and  there,  throughout  for- 
cible writing,  rather  than  as  a  continuous  quality  of 
style,  though  there  are  some  prose  compositions  in 
which  a  rhythmical  swing  can  be  felt  throughout.  A 
very  marked  degree  of  this  quality  is  the  characteristic 
of  poetry  rather  than  of  prose. 

The  theory  of  musical  utterance  is  that  a  writer 
who  is  capable  of  intense  thought  gets  not  only  an  in- 
tellectual realization  of  his  subject  but  also  an  emotion- 
al one,  and  this  emotion  sets  all  his  faculties  in  a  rhyth- 
mic motion  which  communicates  itself  to  his  vocabulary 
and  phrasing,  so  that  he  balances  word  against  word, 
and  phrase  against  phrase,  with  a  symmetry  which 
makes  language  have  the  effect  of  music.  Everyone 


LITERARY  ART  159 

feels  the  instinct  for  symmetry — a  tendency  to  balance 
one  thing  against  another,  or  an  inclination  to  swing 
back  and  forth  in  a  motion  called  rhythm.  A  passion- 
ate mood,  free  to  express  itself,  will  exhibit  this  tend- 
ency in  some  form.  Perfect  mastery  of  a  great  subject 
allows  the  nature  of  a  writer  to  have  such  free  play 
that  thoughts  are  tossed  forth  with  a  swing  of  language, 
because  that  motion  is  the  natural  accompaniment  of 
freedom  and  emotion. 

The  melody  of  prose  consists  in  melodious  words, 
harmonious  combinations  of  words,  and  rhythm. 

A  melodious  word  has  a  large  proportion  of  vow- 
els and  liquids.  The  word  melody,  for  instance,  is 
melodious  because,  of  the  six  letters,  three  are  vowels 
and  two  are  liquids.  A  word  is  unmelodious  which  has 
an  accented  first  syllable  followed  by  several  unaccent- 
ed syllables,  or  which  for  any  reason  is  hard  to  pro- 
nounce. 

A  harmonious  combination  of  words  is  one  which 
has  a  large  proportion  of  vowels  and  liquids,  and  in 
which  the  syllables  flow  smoothly  into  one  another,  or 
one  in  which  the  words  are  so  arranged  that  the  accent 
falls  at  agreeable  intervals .  An  inharmonious  combina- 
tion of  words  is  one  in  which  there  is  a  succession  of 
sounds  hard  to  pronounce  together,  or  two  like  sounds 
in  succession,  such  as  "and  destiny,"  called  an  hiatus, 
or  a  jingling  recurrence  of  tbe  same  sound,  or  an  inad- 
vertent rhyme,  or  a  word  used  is  one  sense  standing 
near  the  same  word  used  in  another  sense,  or  a  long 
succession  of  monosyllables. 

Rhythm  in  prose  is  a  smooth,  easy  rise  and  fall  of 
sound  at  irregular  but  pleasing  intervals.  The  rhythm 


160  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

of  prose  differs  from  that  of  poetry  chiefly  by  its 
irregularity.  A  uniform  measure  of  sound  is  a  defect 
in  prose.  Words  are  so  arranged  that  a  succession  of 
accented  and  unaccented  syllables  makes  the  voice 
rise  and  fall  with  irregular  but  musical  motion ;  also, 
clauses  and  phrases  are  of  such  lengths  that  the  natural 
pauses  required  by  the  sense  contribute  to  the  rise  and 
fall.  Rhythm  of  prose,  then,  is  produced  by  the  suc- 
cession of  accented  and  unaccented  syllables  and  by 
the  length  of  grammatical  phrases  and  clauses. 

The  following  passage  selected  by  Prof.  Genung 
from  Burke 's  writing,  has  a  musical  rhythm : — 

"In  the  morn  |  ing  of  our  days,  |  when  the  sen  |  ses 
are  unworn  |  and  tender,  |  when  the  whole  man  is 
awake  |  in  ev  |  ery  part,  |  and  the  gloss  of  nov  |  elty 
fresh  upon  all  the  ob  |  jects  that  surround  us,  |  how 
lively,  |  at  that  time,  |  are  our  sensations,  |  but  how 
false  and  inac  |  curate  the  judg  |  ments  we  form  |  of 
things!  |  " 

Observe  that  the  fall,  and  therefore  the  length  of 
measure,  is  sometimes  caused  by  the  accent  of  a  word 
and  sometimes  by  a  natural  pause  at  the  end  of  a  clause 
or  phrase.  Observe  that  there  is  no  long  succession  of 
unaccented  syllables,  and  that  the  different  lengths 
balance  in  a  total  harmony.  The  time  scheme  begins 
as  in  poetry,  with  the  alternate  swing  of  5,  4,  5,  4; 
then  comes  a  very  short  measure  and  a  very  long  one, 
followed  by  two  short  ones  and  two  long  ones;  then 
after  a  medium  measure,  comes  the  swell  to  the  climax, 
and  the  gradual  falling  off— 5,  4,  6,  4,  3,  2. 


LITERARY  ART  161 

Cadence  is  a  part  of  the  melody  of  prose.  It  is  a 
gradual  falling-off  of  sound  before  coming  to  a  full 
stop.  At  the  end  of  a  long  sentence,  the  ear  requires, 
not  a  sudden  halt,  but  a  gradual  fall.  Cadence  is  pro- 
duced by  a  gradually  shortening  measure,  as  in  the  ex- 
ample quoted,  or  by  a  word  of  several  syllables,  stand- 
ing at  the  end  of  the  sentence,  and  so  accented  that 
some  sound,  perhaps  two  or  three  syllables,  is  heard 
after  the  last  fall  of  the  voice.  At  the  end  of  a  para- 
graph it  is  particularly  gratifying  to  find  a  sentence 
which  has  a  pleasing  cadence,  for  this  seems  to  give 
cadence  to  the  whole  paragraph. 

The  writer  who  is  sensitive  to  sound  uses  the  sound 
of  words  to  make  the  sense  clearer.  The  words  shriek, 
crack,  burst,  swash,  buzz,  describe  by  their  own  sound, 
.the  sounds  which  they  represent.  Such  a  use  of  words 
is  called  onomatopoeia. 

Alliteration,  which  is  thought  to  belong  only  to 
verse,  is  sometimes  used  in  prose  to  assist  in  convey- 
ing a  meaning.  For  instance,  Thackeray  more  per- 
fectly conveys  his  idea  of  a  life  of  folly  by  the  following 
alliteration  than  he  could  without  the  assistance  of 
sound.  "All  was  fiddling,  and  flowers,  and  feasting, 
and  flattery,  and  folly."  The  sound  conveys  his  con- 
tempt, and  so  his  use  of  alliteration  in  prose  is 
justified. 

Other  names  which  may  be  given  to  this  quality  of 
literary  art  are  : — 

Euphony  Ease 

Smoothness  Grace 


162  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

This  quality  may  be  described  as  a  style  which  is : — 
Lilting  Modulated 

Liquid  Sonorous 

Musical  Tuneful 

Measured  Fluent 

AESTHETIC  EMOTION.— ^Esthetic  emotion  is  a 
general  term  for  the  emotions  of  beauty,  sublimity, 
pathos,  and  humor.  These  are  pleasurable  emotions, 
the  expression  of  which  contributes  to  the  beauty  of 
a  literary  production,  and  so  are  called  aesthetic 
emotions.  Whether  emotion  expresses  itself  in  one 
or  another,  or  in  all  of  these  forms,  depends  upon 
the  writer's  subject  and  personality.  Sometimes  one 
of  these  will  be  the  predominant  characteristic  of  a 
whole  production;  but  it  is  usual  to  find  aesthetic 
emotion  expressed  occasionally,  at  intervals,  giving  a 
tone  to  whatever  other  quality  the  production  may 
possess. 

THE  BEAUTIFUL. — The  quality  of  beauty  in  litera- 
ture is  the  expression  of  the  writer's  sense  of  beauty, 
and  his  emotion  concerning  something  which  is  beauti- 
ful. A  sense  of  beauty  is  a  sense  of  the  harmony  of 
parts.  The  emotion  caused  by  a  sense  of  beauty  may 
be  described  as  a  glad  but  quiet  contemplation  of  some- 
thing which  is  harmonious.  The  expression  of  this 
emotion  is  in  language  which  corresponds  with  the 
calm  nature  of  the  emotion;  it  is  characterized  by 
epithets  which  show  attention  to  small  details,  by  a  pro- 
fusion of  similes,  some  personification,  and  melodious 
words  and  phrases.  A  whole  production  may  be  ex- 
pressive of  a  writer's  sense  of  beauty,  since  that 
emotion  is  calm  enough  to  be  continuous.  But,  usually, 


LITERARY  ART  163 

beautiful  passages,  mostly  description,  are  found  scat- 
tered through  the  composition. 

The  treatment  of  any  theme  will  usually  permit  the 
introduction,  somewhere,  of  a  description  of  beautiful 
scenery,  or  a  beautiful  character,  or  the  expression  of 
a  beautiful  sentiment.  The  writer  may  thus  give  ex- 
pression to  his  own  sense  of  beauty  without  interfering 
with  the  logical  treatment  of  a  theme,  provided  the 
reason  of  the  reader  is  satisfied  with  the  appropriate- 
ness of  that  which  is  introduced.  Description  of  natural 
scenery  is  introduced  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a  setting 
for  some  important  point;  but  it  serves  the  double 
purpose  of  increasing  the  effectiveness  of  the  point 
which  is  to  be  made  to  the  mind,  and  of  satisfying  the 
senses  with  beauty.  The  description  of  a  beautiful 
character  is  introduced  to  illustrate,  or  make  concrete, 
some  idea  that  would  otherwise  be  abstract  and  unin- 
teresting. A  burst  of  beautiful  sentiment  in  the  midst 
of  some  argument  or  narration,  gives  beauty  to  the 
whole,  provided  it  does  not  detract  from  the  reasonable- 
ness of  the  whole. 

THE  SUBLIME. — The  quality  of  sublimity  in  litera- 
ture is  the  expression  of  the  writer's  sense  of  the  sub- 
lime, and  his  emotion  concerning  something  which  is 
sublime.  A  sense  of  the  sublime  is  a  sense  of  great- 
ness or  power.  The  emotion  caused  by  a  sense  of  the 
sublime  may  be  described  as  awe,  or  a  feeling  which  is 
at  the  same  time  humility  and  an  exaltation  of  soul. 
Such  a  feeling  may  take  the  form  of  wonder,  astonish- 
ment, adoration,  veneration,  heroic  resolve,  joy,  or 
noble  indignation.  The  expression  of  this  emotion  is 
in  language  which  corresponds  with  the  sublime 


164  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

mood;  it  is  characterized  by  few  but  precise  words, 
forcible  short  sentences  or  else  long  rhythmical  ones, 
and  extravagant  figures  of  speech,  such  as  vision  apos- 
trophe, personification,  and  metaphor.  The  emotion 
caused  by  a  sense  of  the  sublime  is  so  intense  that  it 
cannot  last  long,  and  so  the  sublime  is  not  a  continuous 
quality  of  style,  but  is  found  in  short  passages  and 
only  at  climaxes  of  feeling. 

Opportunity  for  the  expression  of  such  feeling  is 
found  in  connection  with  almost  any  subject.  A  writer 
may  find  occasion  to  express  his  sense  of  power  by  some 
reference  to  the  forces  of  nature,  or  to  those  powerful 
spiritual  forces  which  move  men  to  action  ;  or  his  sense 
of  mystery  by  some  reference  to  the  workings  of 
divine  providence;  or  his  sense  of  majesty  by  de- 
scripton  of  a  great  forest,  a  solitary  lake,  mountain 
scenery,  or  some  instance  of  moral  heroism  ;  or  his 
sense  of  vastness  by  an  allusion  to  the  ocean,  or  to 
eternity;  or  his  sense  of  right  by  his  expression  of 
noble,  indignation  against  wrong;  or  his  sense  of  joy 
by  a  noble  burst  of  exultation . 

THE  PATHETIC. — The  quality  of  pathos  in  literature 
is  the  expression  of  the  writer's  sense  of  pathos,  and 
his  emotion  concerning  something  which  is  pathetic. 
A  sense  of  pathos  is  a  sense  for  that  which  is  at  the 
same  time  both  pitiful  and  beautiful.  The  emotion 
caused  by  a  sense  of  pathos  may  be  described  as  a  com- 
bination of  pity  and  admiration.  It  is  a  tenderness  of 
feeling  which  does  not  reach  the  degree  that  is  painful. 
An  idea,  or  an  occurrence,  or  a  situation  is  pathetic  if 
it  inspires  pity  and  also  gives  rise  to  some  beautiful 
sentiment,  or  calls  attention  to  beauty  of  character. 


LITERARY  ART  165 

Anything  is  pathetic  which  makes  one  sad,  but  which 
awakens  just  that  degree  of  grief  which  is  pleasurable 
emotion.  That  which  is  merely  distressing  is  not 
pathetic.  The  words  pathetic  and  sad  are  not  quite 
synonymous.  Pathos  in  literature  is  a  delicate  quality ; 
it  is  so  unobtrusive  that  the  reader  is  aware  of  no  more 
than  a  quiet  stirring  of  humane  feeling,  a  softened 
mood,  or  a  kindly  gentleness. 

THE  HUMOROUS. — The  humorous  quality  in  litera- 
ture is  the  expression  of  the  writer's  emotion  arising 
from  his  sense  of  humor.  A  sense  of  humor  is  not  the 
same  as  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous.  It  is  a  sense  of  that 
which  is  at  the  same  time  both  ludicrous  and  pathetic. 
It  is  the  power  to  see  the  pathetic  in  ludicrous  situ- 
ations. The  sense  of  humor  may  be  defined,  then,  as 
a  sense  of  the  ludicrous  governed  by  kindly  feeling  and 
good  taste.  The  words  humorous  and  funny  are  not  syn- 
onymous. The  humorous  is  a  mixture  of  the  ludicrous 
and  pathetic  which  compels  not  only  laughter  but  sym- 
pathy; the  funny  appeals  only  to  the  sense  of  the 
ludicrous,  which  is  merely  the  sense  of  the  incongru- 
ous. Humor  recognizes  the  incongruous,  but  it  is  the 
recognition  of  the  incongruity  between  the  actual,  as 
we  see  it  in  everyday  life,  and  the  ideal,  and  hence* 
has  always  the  element  of  pathos.  The  emotion  ex- 
cited by  a  sense  of  humor  may  be  described  as  ridicule 
combined  with  gentle  tolerance. 

Human  nature  is  the  humorist's  subject — its  fol- 
lies, vices,  absurdities,  and  also  the  virtues  inseparably 
mixed  with  these.  Custom  makes  us  blind  to  much 
that  is  ridiculous  and  pathetic  in  human  nature.  The 
humorist  is  the  discoverer  of  incongruities — the  illusions 


166  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

and  falsehoods  mixed  with  the  truth  in  human  beliefs, 
the  hypocrisies  and  inconsistencies  mixed  with  noble 
actions,  and  the  worth  and  sweetness  underneath  a 
ridiculous  exterior.  He  sees  these  things  as  both 
ridiculous  and  pathetic,  and  so  a  vein  of  pathos  softens 
the  censure  of  his  ridicule,  and  an  aesthetic  effect  is 
produced.  A  true  humorist  is  known  by  his  faculty  for 
finding  ludicrous  aspects  in  common  life,  his  shrewd 
but  sympathetic  observation  of  human  nature,  and  his 
keen  perception  of  truth. 

The  mission  of  the  humorist  is  to  disturb  the  com- 
fortable sense  of  satisfaction  with  things  as  they  are,  to 
show  human  nature  as  it  really  is,  and  to  promote  a  fel- 
low-feeling by  showing  the  faults  which  all  men  have  in 
common.  The  humorist  is  not  a  joker  merely;  he  is  a 
philosopher  who  disguises  his  sound  sense  by  a  playful 
manner.  He  influences  opinion  as  much  as  the  moral- 
ist does,  but  he  corrects  human  folly  by  making  it 
ridiculous  rather  than  tragic.  A  moral,  or  at  least 
some  serious  feeling,  lies  hidden  not  far  below  the  sur- 
face in  all  humorous  writing.  But  a  reader  who  has 
no  sense  of  humor  will  not  see  the  serious  purpose 
through  the  disguises  which  a  humorist  uses.  The 
title  does  not  usually  indicate  a  humorist's  theme  ;  his 
real  point  he  drops  in  some  casual  remark  which  is 
easily  overlooked.  For  instance,  the  title  Old  China, 
gives  no  indication  of  a  lesson  in  human  absurdity, 
illustrated  by  the  absurdity  of  the  Chinese  decoration 
on  an  old  china  tea-cup.  Bridget's  mind  is  as  lacking 
in  perspective  as  is  the  landscape  decoration  on  the 
cup.  In  her  old  age,  she  absurdly  forgets  that  her  days 
of  poverty  were  happy  because  they  were  days  of 


LITERARY  ART  167 

youth,  and  this  absurdity,  constantly  suggested,  is 
stated  only  in  Elia's  incidental  remark  :  "It  is  true  we 
were  happier  when  we  were  poorer ;  but  we  were  also 
younger,  my  cousin/'  Thus  Charles  Lamb  treats  the 
universal  human  tendency  to  overrate  some  past  con- 
dition on  account  of  discontent  with  the  present. 
Again,  the  humorist  is  apt  to  conceal  his  fun  beneath 
a  serious  title  and  an  air  of  gravity,  and  the  reader 
who  does  not  detect  the  mock-seriousness  will  find  his 
writing  mere  nonsense,  For  instance,  in  A  Dissertation 
Upon  Roast  Pig,  Charles  Lamb,  by  his  mock-seriousness, 
throws  ridicule  upon  the  extravagant  gratification  of 
physical  appetite.  A  humorist  is,  therefore,  frequently 
misjudged.  He  is  really  an  advanced  thinker,  and  has 
a  salutary  influence  upon  society. 

Some  humorous  writings  have  become  permanent 
literature,  or  classics,  partly  on  account  of  the  artistic 
finish  of  their  literary  style,  but  chiefly  on  account  of  the 
universality  of  the  human  trait  which  is  treated,  and 
the  appropriateness  of  the  embodiment  which  has  been 
given  to  the  trait.  For  instance,  it  is  a  common  human 
trait,  and  one  that  is  humorous,  to  take  with  serious- 
ness and  intensity  what  is  intended  to  be  a  diversion  or 
sport.  Charles  Lamb  embodied  this  trait  in  the  im- 
mortal Sarah  Battle,  who  sat  bolt  upright  at  the  whist 
table,  and  insisted  upon  "the  rigor  of  the  game". 

THE  WITTY. — Wit  and  humor  are  usually  asso- 
ciated, but  they  are  different  in  nature.  Wit  is  the 
product  of  the  intellect;  humor,  of  the  moral  nature. 
Wit  is  called  intellectual  because  it  is  a  sense  for 
ludicrous  combinations  of  ideas.  Wit  is  the  power  to 
detect  hidden  resemblances  and  contrasts,  and  so  it 


168  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

makes  new  combinations^:  ideas  which   are   so   sur- 
prising to  the  reason  that  a  comic  effect  is  produced. 
It  is  intellectual  quibbling,  and  depends  upon  surprise 
for  its  effect.     Wit    is  a    tendency  to    the  whimsical 
and  fantastic  in  ideas.     It  always  associates  that  which 
is  not  usually  associated ;  in  other  words,  it  flashes  sud- 
denly upon  the  mind  some  correspondence  in  things 
supposed  to  be  unlike,  or  some  difference  in  things  sup- 
posed to  be  identical.     This  is  purely  intellectual  play 
with  ideas.     Wit  is,  therefore,  intellectual  cleverness. 
Wit  may  be  used  for  pointing  out  human  weakness, 
for   attacking   some   public   abuse,    or   for   comparing 
ideals  with  actual  conditions.     It  is  then  that  wit  and 
humor  enter  the  same  field,  and  their  difference  is  in 
method.     Wit  is  quick,  flashing  an  idea  upon  the  mind 
by  means  of   sudden  surprise ;  humor  is  slow,  gently 
disabusing  the  mind  of  some  wrong  notion  by  kindly 
ridicule.     The  spirit   of   each  differs   just  as  derision 
differs  from   ridicule.     Wit  has   the    effect   of   being 
spontaneous,   and   comes   in   occasional   short   flashes. 
Surprise  cannot  be  continuous,  and  so  continuous  wit  is 
a  weariness.     Humor   pervades  a  whole  composition, 
producing  a  continuous,  quiet  amusement. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  forms  of  wit.  A 
pun  is  a  play  upon  words  having  the  same  sound  but 
different  sense ;  it  is  something  which  depends  for  its 
fun  upon  an  unexpected  coincidence  in  sound  or  in  idea. 
A  repartee  is  a  perversion  of  an  intendedjneaning  by 
means  of  a  quick  reply.  A  bull  (or  blunder)  makes  an 
incongruity  appear  like  a  congruity.  A  burlesque  is  a 
ridiculous  imitation  of  something  for  the  purpose  of 
debasing  it.  The  mock-heroic  elevates  the  insignificant 


LITERARY  ART  169 

by  means  of  lofty  style,  and  thus  makes  it  ludicrous. 
Satire  exposes  that  which  deserves  rebuke  by  means  of 
open  ridicule.  Irani/  exposes  faults  by  seeming  to 
approve  or  defend  them ;  it  is  an  apparent  assent  to 
something,  but  given  with  such  a  tone,  or  under  such 
circumstances,  that  opposite  feelings  are  implied. 

VI 
A  Summary  of  Structure  and  Quality. 

STRUOTUKE  :— 

UNITY — Everything  centered  around  one  fun* 
damental  idea. 

COHERENCE — Clear,  unmistakable  relation  be- 
tween parts. 

EMPHASIS — The  arrangement  of  parts  in  such 
positions  and  forms  that  principal  parts  are  distin- 
guished from  those  which  are  subordinate. 

PROPORTION — Each    subject    treated    at     that 
length  which  shows  its  value   relatively  to  the  other 
parts  and  to  the  whole. 
QUALITY  :— 

CLEARNESS — The  quality  of  being  easily  intelli- 
gible. 

ENERGY — The  quality  of  being  impressive. 

MELODY — The  quality  of  being  agreeable  to 
the  ear. 

^ESTHETIC    EMOTION — The   quality  of  arousing 
responsive  feeling  by  means  of  the  beautiful,  the  sub- 
lime, the  pathetic,  and  the  humorous. 
TOTAL  EFFECT  :— 

Unity  of  design  and  emotional  expression. 


170  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

VII 

Conclusion. — This  chapter  sets  forth  the  ele- 
ments of  literary  art  as  the  basis  for  appreciation  of  a 
literary  composition  as  a  consistent  whole.  It  gives  the 
foundation  knowledge  required  for  reading  the  whole 
of  a  book,  or  shorter  composition,  and  for  judging  it  as 
a  whole.  Judging  a  literary  composition  consists  in 
judging  its  message,  its  structure,  and  its  quality, 
since  that  takes  in  both  the  thought  side  and  the  form 
side.  This  requires  that  the  reader  have  the  power  to 
discover  the  main,  underlying  theme  of  the  composi- 
tion, and  to  see  everything  else  as  embodiment.  Ma- 
terial, structure,  and  quality  will  then  be  seen  as 
means  to  an  end,  and  the  reader's  interest  will  consist 
in  noticing. the  suitability  of  the  means  used  for  the 
end  sought,  and  the  skill  with  which  every  smallest 
detail  is  made  to  contribute  to  the  one  total  impres- 
sion. For  instance,  a  story  which  in  itself  is  revolting, 
may  be  satisfactory  to  a  reader  if  he  can  see  that  the 
revolting  material  is  the  best  means  for  conveying  the 
message.  In  order  to  see  a  book  in  this  light,  it  may 
be  necessary  to  read  it  twice ;  first,  to  discover  what 
the  main  theme  is,  arid  again  to  enjoy  the  fitness  of 
parts,  or  the  way  they  contribute  to  the  bringing  out 
of  the  theme.  Satisfaction  with  an  author's  material 
and  form  should  depend,  primarily,  upon  the  suitabil- 
ity of  them  for  bringing  out  the  theme,  and,  seconda- 
rily, upon  the  interest  and  beauty  which  they  have  in 
themselves.  So,  although  a  reader  may  find  delight  in 
detached  passages,  and  in  bits  of  material,  the  charm 
of  parts  will  lie  chiefly  in  their  significance  when  seen 
in  the  light  of  the  whole,  The  less  cultivated  linger 


LITERARY  ART  171 

over  details  and  separate  parts ;  the  more  cultivated 
keep  the  whole  iirmind  when  judging  of  parts.  When 
the  reader  gets  an'impression  of  some  one,  great,  uni- 
versal truth,  and  realizes  that  the  writer's  material, 
structure,  and  emotion  contribute  directly  to  that  one 
impression,  he  has  appreciated  literary  art,  and  the 
writer  has  found  a  reader. 

Reading  may  therefore  be  defined  as  the  power  to 
enter  understandingly  into  an  author's  thought,  to  feel 
and  share  his  emotions,  and  to  recognize  and  enjoy  the 
cleverness  of  the  art  by  which  he  makes  his  thought 
clear  and  his  emotion  contagious. 


CHAPTER  V 
COMPOSITION  PRACTICE 

The  Creative  Impulse. — The  reader,  by  long 
practice  in  following  the  literary  inventions  of  others, 
finds  himself  stimulated  and  skilled  to  make  some  in- 
vention of  his  own.  Seeing  how  a  thing  is  done,  natural- 
ly makes  one  wish  to  try  one's  own  skill,  "Books  are 
for  nothing  but  to  inspire,"  says  Emerson,  and  he  urges 
readers  to  be  thinkers  and  then  creators,  for,  he  says, 
literary  creation  is  "not  the  privilege  of  here  and  there 
a  favorite,  but  the  sound  estate  of  every  man."  To 
absorb  without  creating  is  a  deadening  process.  Read- 
ing is  a  dissipation  unless  the  reader's  mind  acts  vigor- 
ously upon  what  is  read,  shaping  it  into  some  new 
product  which  the  reader  in  turn  passes  on  to  others. 
The  creative  impulse  is  the  natural  result  of  a  full  and 
active  mind,  and  of  association  with  creators  and  ob- 
servation of  their  methods. 

Method  of  Composition. — The  writer  who  con- 
sciously sets  about  the  task  of  literary  composition,  in 
response  either  to  the  demand  of  the  full  mind  for  ex- 
pression, or  to  some  demand  from  others — such  as  the 
demand  for  a  club  paper,  an  address,  or  a  school  com- 
position— seeks  some  method  of  procedure  which  has 
been  tested  by  the  experience  of  others.  Method  is 
partly  individual.  But  the  experience  of  other  work- 

172 


COMPOSITION  PRACTICE  173 

ers  is  always  a  guide  to  the  best  method  for  the  inex- 
perienced. Writing  is  seldom  an  involuntary  and  un- 
conscious process.  Much  good  writing  is  done  with  the 
same  conscious  intention,  preparation,  and  method  with 
which  a  workman  of  any  kind  goes  about  his  task.  Of 
course  there  is  no  arbitrary  method  laid  down  for 
writers  to  adopt.  But  the  testimony  of  authors  with 
regard  to  their  own  methods  has  furnished  a  theory  of 
method  which  applies  to  the  process  of  composing  any 
literary  form.  This  testimony  shows  that  literary 
method  consists  in  a  succession  of  separate  steps  or 
stages. 

SUBJECT. — The  fundamental  stage  is  the  discovery 
of  what  subject  is  suited  to  the  individual  author. 
A  subject  suitable  in  itself  may  not  be  at  all  suitable 
for  a  particular  writer.  Authorship  implies  the  giving 
forth  of  what  has  already  matured  in  the  mind.  Choos- 
ing a  subject,  then,  consists  in  studying  what  subjects 
have  become  one's  own  special  interests.  It  is  a  pro- 
cess of  self-examination  for  the  purpose  of  discovering 
what  one's  interests  are.  Great  writers  do  not  choose 
subjects ;  they  write  what  is  uppermost  in  their  minds. 
When  one  is  merely  practicing  composition,  and  must 
seek  a  subject,  one  should,  as  nearly  as  possible,  do  the 
same  thing — that  is,  a  subject  should  be  found  in  what 
has  for  a  long  time  been  a  frequent  and  absorbing  topic 
of  one's  thought.  As  a  consequence,  the  subject  suitable 
for  an  individual  writer  is  the  subject  most  closely 
related  to  his  everyday  interests.  The  only  chance  a 
writer  has  for  giving  his  writing  quality,  is  to  get  a 
subject  in  the  treatment  of  which  he  can  expose  his  own 
personality,  his  own  views,  feelings,  and  information. 


174  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

Any  writing  is  read  either  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  writer — his  opinions,  feelings,  point  of  view,  or  else 
to  become  informed  about  something  which  the  writer, 
for  some  reason,  is  peculiarly  fitted  to  give  information 
about.  Therefore,  choosing  a  subject  for  writing  consists 
in  finding  out  what  subject  has  already  given  the  writer 
food  for  his  own  thought — what  he  already  has  opinions, 
feelings,  or  convictions  about,  something  about  which 
knowledge  and  opinion  have  been  growing  for  a  long 
time ;  or  else  it  consists  in  recalling  some  experience 
of  his  own,  or  a  personal  association  with  something 
about  which  he  alone  is  best  fitted  to  give  information. 

THEME. — The  next  stage  is  the  deducing  of  a  theme 
from  a  subject.  After  a  writer  settles  upon  a  general 
subject,  he  next  searches  his  mind  to  see  what  definite 
opinion  he  has  developed  by  his  association  with  that 
subject.  For  instance,  all  that  one  knows  about  music 
may  develop  the  opinion  that  a  musical  education  is  a 
liberal  education ;  all  that  one  knows  about  Oliver 
Cromwell  may  develop  the  opinion  that  despotism  may 
be  patriotism ;  all  that  one  knows  about  the  events  of 
the  industrial  or  the  social  world  may  develop  some 
opinion  about  the  evils  or  the  benefits  of  competition ; 
all  that  one  knows  about  the  history  of  Indiana  may 
develop  the  opinion  that  Indiana  is  a  suitable  back- 
ground for  historical  fiction.  Thus  every  general  sub- 
ject may  be  given  a  turn  that  will  adapt  it  to  the 
individual  writer.  This  opinion  is  the  theme,  but  it 
is  not  ready  for  use  until  it  has  been  reduced  to  a  sin- 
gle statement,  so  concise  and  yet  so  comprehensive 
that,  in  the  form  of  one  sentence,  it  reveals  the  scope 
that  will  be  given  to  the  subject.  To  this  one  state- 


COMPOSITION  PRACTICE  175 

ment  should  be  added  a  definition  of  any  word  or 
phrase  that  needs  defining  in  order  to  make  the  whole 
theme  stand  distinctly  outlined.  This  statement  and 
accompanying  definitions  is  the  writer's  theme,  which 
carried  constantly  in  mind,  in  just  this  form,  insures 
the  unity  of  the  composition,  and  makes  it  possible  for 
the  writer  to  leave  one  clear  and  definite  impression  by 
what  he  writes. 

SCALE. — The  writer  next  considers  the  limitations 
under  which  he  must  work.  If  he  is  limited  in  the 
time  he  may  have  for  preparation,  and  if  the  length  of 
the  composition  is  limited,  he  must  adapt  his  thought 
to  those  conditions.  He  first  takes  pains  to  get  a  dis- 
tinct impression  of  the  length  limit.  Little  by  little 
his  subject  takes  the  shape  suitable  to  that  limit — 
that  is,  the  number  of  points  and  the  amount  that  can 
be  said  about  each  becomes  apparent.  In  other  words, 
he  begins  to  see  the  scale  upon  which  the  subject  may 
be  treated.  The  length  limit  fixes  the  scale,  and  the 
writer's  problem  is  to'  discover  what  points  will  har- 
monize within  such  a  space,  and  what  must  be  omitted. 
A  realization  of  scale  is  what  keeps  the  parts  of  a  com- 
position in  proportion. 

ACCUMULATION  OF  MATERIAL. — A  definite  theme  and 
a  sense  of  the  required  scale  prepares  one  to  collect 
material,  for  with  these  as  guides  no  time  will  be  lost 
in  collecting  an  unnecessary  amount  of  material,  or 
that  which  will  not  harmonize.  Even  with  a  familiar 
subject  the  writer  spends  considerable  time  in  search- 
ing for  material,  because  his  object  is  to  get  that 
which  is  not  common,  but  will  attract  attention  and 
interest.  The  search  is  made  mainly  among  the  stores 


176  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

in  his  own  memory  and  if  these  are  inadequate  he  uses 
his  own  powers  of  observation  and  reason  to  discover 
new  stores.  Reading  will  be  done  only  to  set  his  own 
mind  to  thinking,  never  for  the  purpose  of  borrowing 
more  than  can  be  used  as  quotation.  Talks  with  friends 
assist  him  in  finding  his  own  views.  Everything  will  be 
done  to  agitate  the  subject  thoroughly  in  the  writer's 
mind.  During  this  agitation  of  the  subject,  so  many 
stray  thoughts  and  bits  of  information  come  to  one 
that  memory  is  not  trusted  to  retain  them,  and  they 
are  caught  on  paper  in  a  few  suggestive  words.  A 
bunch  of  notes  is  therefore  the  result  of  the  time  spent 
in  agitating  the  subject. 

The  search  for  material  continues  until  something 
is  found  which  can  be  used  for  contrast,  or  for 
showing  the  difference  between  the  subject  treated 
and  something  which  might  he  confused  with  it ;  un- 
til there  are  many  interesting  details  and  exam- 
ples and  instances  with  which  to  illustrate  points ; 
until  some  fitting  allusions  and  quotations  and  com- 
parisons have  been  found ;  until  an  appropriate  anec- 
dote or  a  beautiful  description  has  occurred  to  the  mind  ; 
until  arguments  both  for  and  against  the  position  of 
the  writer  have  developed, — in  short,  until  the  amount 
and  kind  of  material  is  at  hand,  ready  to  use,  that  will 
detain  the  reader's  attention  until  the  theme  has  been 
thoroughly  impressed. 

The  question  of  plagiarism  is  an  important  one  in 
connection  with  the  gathering  of  material.  Plagiarism 
is  the  use,  without  acknowledgment,  of  what  another 
person  has  written.  A  writer  needs  to  know  what  con- 
stitutes literary  property  in  order  to  avoid  such  theft. 
It  is  the  form  side  of  composition  which  is  the  writer's 


COMPOSITION  PRACTICE  177 

property.  What  is  called  material  is  open  to  everyone, 
but  the  form  which  an  author  gives  to  material  is  his 
own  invention.  Therefore  the  outline  plan  of  a  compo- 
sition, the  arrangement  of  ideas,  and  the  language  form, 
either  in  whole  sentences  or  in  striking  phrases,  is 
literary  property  which  cannot  be  appropriated  by  an- 
other. The  danger  of  plagiarism  will  be  avoided  if,  in 
taking  notes  while  reading,  the  reader  does  not  allow 
himself  to  take  down  the  language  of  what  he  reads, 
but  only  a  note  of  the  idea  expressed  in  his  own  words. 
Ideas  may  be  collected  from  any  source  and  be  made 
into  original  composition  by  letting  them  lie  in  the 
mind  until  the  process  of  assimilation  gives  them  new 
arrangement  and  association. 

ORGANIZING  OF  MATERIAL. — After  a  sufficient  amount 
of  material  has  been  collected  in  the  form  of  rough 
notes,  the  first  step  towards  writing  is  to  take  inven- 
tory of  material,  and  sort  it  into  groups.  The  inventory 
should  result  in  finding  from  three  to  five  main  points, 
under  one  or  another  of  which  all  the  material  collected 
can  be  grouped.  The  grouping  of  related  matter  under 
separate  heads,  and  arranging  these  groups  in  orderly 
sequence,  is  called  the  organizing  of  material.  This 
organization  may  take  the  form  of  an  outline  plan 
which  will  be  constantly  modified  as  the  process  of 
composition  goes  on,  or,  at  the  very  least,  the  writer 
will  know,  before  he  starts  to  write,  just  how  many 
points  he  is  going  to  treat,  and  can  give  each  point  in 
the  form  of  a  definite  statement.  The  process  of  organ- 
izing thought  includes  a  consideration  of  these  main 
points  and  the  material  grouped  under  them,  to  see  if 
something  needs  to  be  added  or  omitted  to  give  the 


178  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

effect  of  completeness.  The  rapid  flow  of  language, 
when  one  begins  to  write,  depends  upon  the  perfectly 
clear  view  that  the  writer  has  of  what  are  to  be  his 
main  points,  and  what  material  he  is  going  to  use  in 
connection  with  each. 

THE  FIRST  KOUGH  DRAFT. — The  actual  writing  of 
the  composition,  in  the  first  rough  draft,  should  be  a 
rapid  process,  done  if  possible  at  one  sitting,  or  at  least 
without  much  interval  of  time,  so  that  the  whole  can 
be  done  under  the  influence  of  one  mood.  It  is  best 
done  under  the  pressure  of  excitement.  All  notes 
should,  by  this  time,  be  banished  from  sight,  so  that 
the  mind  will  be  free  to  follow  a  natural  course.  If  the 
writer  has  made  himself  perfectly  familiar  with  his 
notes,  as  he  should  have  done  before  he  began  to  write, 
the  mind  may  be  trusted  to  use  such  of  the  material 
as  will  naturally  harmonize,  and  to  discard  that  which 
does  not  perfectly  fit.  In  this  rough  draft  the  mind 
may  also  be  trusted  to  reach  a  logical  conclusion,  pro- 
vided the  writer  clearly  defined  his  theme  to  himself 
before  he  started,  and  keeps  it  constantly  in  mind. 
But  an  artistic  introduction  will  probably  not  be  a 
part  of  this  first  draft.  The  draft  is  laid  away  for  some 
time — the  longer  the  better — so  that  the  writer  may 
lose  familiarity  with  both  material  and  form. 

REVISION. — Up  to  this  time  the  writer  should  have 
no  set  intention  as  to  what  literary  form  he  will  use. 
The  first  rough  draft  is  likely  to  be  ''written  talk" 
whatever  form  the  final  draft  may  have.  When  the 
first  draft  is  taken  out  for  revision,  whether  the  form 
is  to  be  changed  or  not,  there  will  be  a  disposition  to  re- 
make to  a  considerable  extent.  What  seemed  to  make 


COMPOSITION  PRACTICE  179 

good  sense  and  good  connection  when  written  in  the 
heat  of  first  composition,  may  lack  both  when  read  in 
cool  reason.  So,  there  will  probably  be  necessity  for 
revision  of  matter,  and  there  surely  will  be  necessity 
for  some  correction  of  language  form. 

This  is  the  time  for  the  final  writing  of  what  will 
stand  as  introduction.  The  purpose  of  the  introduction 
is  to  catch  the  attention  and  prepare  the  reader  gradu- 
ally and  pleasantly  for  what  is  to  follow.  This  is 
usually  accomplished  by  taking  a  subject  apparently 
remote  from  the  main  subject  but  so  related  to  it  that 
the  writer  can  use  it  to  make  a  gradual  approach  to  his 
theme.  For  instance,  Ruskin  ridicules  the  scramble 
to  get  into  what  is  called  "good  society",  as  intro- 
duction to  his  description  of  the  society  of  books,  his 
subject  being  "How  and  What  to  Read."  The  intro- 
duction must  be  attractive  in  itself.  It  is  usually  a 
description  which  creates  the  right  setting  for  the 
theme ;  an  anecdote,  or  some  form  of  narration,  which 
will  put  the  reader  in  the  right  attitude  to  listen 
further;  a  dialogue,  or  some  form  of  conversation,  that 
will  dramatically  introduce  the  theme ;  some  quotation, 
the  explanation  of  which  will  prepare  for  what  follows ; 
or  some  remark  so  pointed  and  striking  that  attention 
is  caught  by  it.  It  is  a  pleasing  device  for  giving  a  sense 
of  completeness  to  refer  in  the  few  last  lines  of  the  com- 
position to  the  subject  treated  in  the  introduction,  thus 
completing  the  circuit  of  thought. 

Revision  may  consist  in  writing  an  entirely  new 
draft,  or  in  making  alterations  in  the  first.  Changes 
will  consist  in  the  addition  of  illustrative  examples,  in 
new  arrangement  to  improve  unity,  sequence,  tran- 


180  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

sition,  and  climax,  in  change  of  sentence  structure  where 
the  sentence  falls  short  of  expressing  just  the  right 
idea,  and  in  substitution  of  more  precise  words.  Re- 
vision should  be  done  in  three  separate  processes.  In  the 
first,  the  mind  should  be  upon  nothing  else  but  the 
general  effect  of  the  composition  as  a  whole.  In  the 
second,  attention  should  be  wholly  upon  sentence  form, 
and  revision  should  include  the  reading  aloud  of  each 
sentence  separately  to  see  that  all  parts  are  well 
placed,  and  that  the  punctuation  will  give  the  reader 
the  right  impression  of  parts.  In  the  third,  attention 
should  be  limited  to  vocabulary,  including  attention 
to  the  spelling  of  words.  Revision  is  well  done  only 
by  those  who  have  literary  ideals,  and  who  will  labor 
to  realize  them. 

TITLE. — The  title  is  usually  decided  upon  after  the 
composition  is  finished.  The  wording  of  it  depends 
upon  the  turn  which  the  subject  finally  takes — a  turn 
which  cannot  always  be  foreseen.  For  instance,  sup- 
pose that  a  writer's  purpose  is  to  show  that  Indiana 
has  beautiful  scenery,  and  thus  show  the  folly  of  the 
current  idea  that  one  must  go  outside  of  Indiana  to 
enjoy  natural  scenery.  The  writer's' material  is  his 
own  observations  of  the  scenery  around  Pendleton. 
Without  changing  that  material,  he  might  talk  of  In- 
diana scenery  in  general,  and  use  as  his  title  "The  In- 
diana Landscape" ;  or  he  might  talk  about  Pendleton 
itself  and  yet  carry  out  his  purpose,  and  would  then 
use  the  title,  "Around  Pendleton";  or  if  that  part  of 
his  purpose  becomes  paramount  in  which  he  shows  the 
folly  of  depreciating  Indiana  scenery,  and  the  climax 
of  .the  essay  consists  in  showing  that  there  is  beauty 


COMPOSITION  PRACTICE  181 

anywhere  if  there  is  an  eye  to  see  it,  then  his  title 
might  be,  "The  Seeing  Eye".  In  each  case,  the  pur- 
pose and  material  remain  the  same,  but  the  writer 
gives  them  a  slightly  different  turn.  The  title  should 
furnish  only  a  hint  of  the  subject-matter,  or  else  it 
should  be  the  exact  and  concise  statement  of  what  is 
to  be  found  in  the  composition.  The  object  of  a  title 
is  either  to  rouse  curiosity  or  to  inform ;  in  either  case 
the  title  must  not  be  found  to  be  a  misleading  one. 

PREPARATION  FOR  THE  EYE. — If  a  writer  is  to  prepare, 
in  writing,  a  copy  of  his  composition  for  the  eye  of  an- 
other, he  must  remember  the  requirements  of  written 
form.  Neatness  of  page,  legible  handwriting,  punctu- 
ation, and  spelling,  all  contribute  to  the  effect  made 
by  the  composition  as  a  whole,  and  in  these  things  a 
writer  reveals  his  personality  as  much  as  by  other 
elements  of  style. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MAKING   ACQUAINTANCE  WITH    AN    AUTHOR 

Making  acquaintance  with  an  author,  like  making 
acquaintance  with  any  one,  is  a  slow  process,  requiring 
perhaps  years,  and  never  accomplished  without  good- 
natured  persistence  and  much  charity.  A  reader  will 
have  time  to  become  really  acquainted  with  few  au- 
thors, but  a  good  reader  has  his  few  literary  intimates, 
or  perhaps  only  one  author  whom  he  thoroughly  knows. 

Means  for  Making-  Acquaintance. — The  means 
for  making  an  author's  acquaintance  are  about  the  same 
as  those  for  making  acquaintance  with  any  one.  In 
the  social  world,  making  acquaintance  consists  in  be- 
coming familiar  with  a  person's  general  appearance, 
hearing  what  he  has  to  say,  observing  his  acts,  listen- 
ing to  what  people  say  of  him,  and  paying  no  attention 
to  those  gossipy  statements  which  are  of  such  a  nature 
that  they  cannot  be  verified.  Making  acquaintance 
with  an  author  consists  in  becoming  familiar  with  his 
portraits,  listening  to  what  he  has  to  say  in  his  books, 
learning  of  his  acts  through  biographies,  weighing  what 
critics  say  of  him,  and  refraining  from  any  attempt  to 
spy  upon  his  personal  privacy. 

The  reading  of  biography  and  criticism  is  useful 
only  when  the  reader  remembers  that  he  is  getting 
somebody's  personal  view,  and  that  therefore  he  can- 

182 


,  MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A UTHOR      183 

not  rely  upon  any  one  biographer  or  critic,  but  must 
read  as  many  as  possible,  and  from  their  conflicting 
statements  create  for  himself  his  own  figure  of  the 
author  whom  he  is  studying.  The  reader  depends  upon 
biographies  for  seeing  the  author  in  his  daily  life,  and 
judging  him  by  his  acts ;  but  so  much  depends  upon 
what  acts  are  given  and  what  omitted — since  no  biog- 
raphy succeeds  in  giving  them  all,  and  acts  may  be  so 
differently  interpreted  and  even  falsely  reported,  that 
biography  furnishes  less  assistance  than  is  generally 
supposed  in  coming  to  a  real  acquaintance  with  an 
author. 

The  reading  of  an  author's  own  books  may  not 
lead  to  real  acquaintance  if  the  environment  of  the 
author  differs  greatly  from  that  of  the  reader.  In  that 
case  the  reader  makes  no  acquaintance  with  the  author 
unless  he  is  able,  by  means  of  his  general  knowledge, 
to  transfer  himself  to  the  author's  environment  and  to 
feel  those  prejudices  of  race,  nation,  period,  class,  and 
family,  that  made  the  author  what  he  was,  and  which 
explain  why  he  wrote  what  he  did.  Acquaintance  with 
an  author  is  the  power  to  judge  him  correctly  and  sym- 
pathetically. Justice  consists  in  judging  him  by  the 
standards  of  his  own  time  and  locality,  by  his  own  aim, 
and  by  the  effects  he  produced.  This  requires  consid- 
erable general  reading  along  with  the  reading  of  the 
author's  works,  for  in  choosing  an  author  to  become 
thoroughly  acquainted  with,  it  will  be  natural  to 
take  some  one  of  such  importance  that  his  environment 
will  greatly  differ  from  that  of  the  reader,  and  his  aims 
and  effects  will  be  associated  with  the  whole  of  a  his- 
torical period. 


184  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

Acquaintance  with  an  author,  then,  may  be  best 
made  by  three  stages  of  reading  which,  when  finished, 
will  result  not  only  in  acquaintance  with  some  author, 
but  in  a  liberal  education. 

PREPARATORY  READING. 

HISTORY. — This  includes,  first,  the  reading  of  pre- 
ceding history  in  order  to  learn  what  events  transpired 
just  before  the  author's  birth,  and  were  the  topics  he 
heard  discussed  while  growing  to  manhood ;  and  to 
learn  the  standards  and  conditions  into  which  he  was 
born.  It  includes,  secondly,  the  reading  of  contem- 
porary history  in  order  to  learn  the  general  line  in 
which  progress  seemed  to  be  moving  during  his  own 
time,  and  to  learn  what  were  the  needs  of  his  time. 

RACE. — This  includes  reading  about  the  history  and 
characteristics  of  the  author's  race  in  order  to  know  the 
reasons  for  his  peculiarities  of  temperament. 

BIOGRAPHY. — This  should  not  be  indiscriminate 
reading,  but  limited  to  finding  out  how  ancestry,  local- 
ity, and  social  relations  account  for  the  author's  point 
of  view. 

CRITICISM. — This  should  include  just  enough  read- 
ing of  the  critics  to  learn  the  general  aim  or  tendency 
of  the  author's  books. 

THE  READING  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  WORKS. 

SCOPE. — A  study  of  the  complete  list  of  works,  and 
of  the  tables  of  contents,  will  reveal  the  scope  of  an 
author's  work,  the  relations  between  different  books, 
and  a  unity  of  aim.  This  makes  the  reading  of  any 
one  book  more  intelligent. 


MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A UTHOR      185 

DOCTRINES. — The  reading  of  the  author's  books,  one 
after  another,  should  result  in  knowing  the  specific 
doctrines  which  are  characteristic  of  an  .author.  These 
doctrines  represent  what  an  author  stands  for,  and  the 
reader  should  be  able  to  state  the  principal  ones  so 
definitely  that  no  injustice  is  done  to  the  author  by 
repeating  them. 

QUOTATIONS. — Acquaintance  with  an  author  should 
include  the  power  to  quote  some  representative  pas- 
sages to  illustrate  the  author's  thought  and  style. 

TEST  QUESTIONS  CONCERNING  AN  AUTHOR'S  PERSON- 
ALITY.— Mr.  Symonds  suggests  six  questions  by  which 
a  reader  may  test  his  knowledge  of  an  author's  person- 
ality. These  questions  indicate  the  kind  of  inquiry  a 
reader  should  make  all  the  time  he  is  reading  an  au- 
thor's books,  and  indicate  the  kind  of  knowledge  which 
should  result  from  the  reading.  The  answering  of  these 
questions  is  proof  of  a  reader's  acquaintance  with  an 
an  author. 

The  questions  are  as  follows  : — 

"How  far  is  the  author's  representation  of  human 
life  or  nature  adequate  to  fact? 

"To  what  extent  is  the  author  in  harmony  with  the 
best  thoughts,  the  noblest  emotions,  and  the  worthiest 
sentiments  of  all  time? 

"What  kind  of  individuality  is  indicated  in  his 
work? 

"Does  the  writer  show  himself  to  be  a  man  of  nor- 
mal or  abnormal  temperament? 

"By  right  of  what  particular  quality,  moral,  intel- 
lectual, or  sensuous,  does  he  claim  attention? 


186  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

"How  is  he  related  to  the  spirit  of  his  age  and 
nation,  and  what  has  he  contributed  to  the  sum  of 
culture?" 

TEST  QUESTIONS  CONCERNING  AN  AUTHOR'S  STYLE. — 
The  following  questions  indicate  the  kind  of  inquiry 
and  observation  which  constitutes  attention  to  style  or 
art-method.  Acquaintance  with  an  author  includes 
the  power  to  answer  these  questions,  which  should  be 
possible  after  two  or  three  books  have  been  read. 

What  is  the  character  of  the  diction? 

Attention  to  diction  consists  in  noticing  how 
the  author  associates  words,  what  words  are  so  well 
chosen  as  to  give  distinction  to  the  general  style,  what 
words  are  used  with  new  meanings,  what  words  con- 
note, what  words  express  the  sense  by  their  sound,  and 
what  words  are  melodious. 

What  is  the  character  of  the  sentence  structure? 

Attention  to  sentence  structure  consists  in 
noticing  how  words  and  phrases  are  arranged  so  as  to 
make  easy  reading,  what  variety  there  is  in  sentence 
forms,  how  sentences  vary  in  length  and  the  reasons 
for  it,  and  what  sentences  have  a  pleasant  rhythm. 

By  what  means  does  the  writer  make  his  thoughts 
clear? 

Attention  to  clearness  consists  in  noticing  the 
order  of  points,  or  the  plan,  the  amount  of  definition 
and  illustration,  the  fullness  of  explanation,  the  fre- 
quency of  reiterations,  the  character  of  the  allusions, 
figures,  or  quotations,  the  number  of  connectives,  the 
articulation  of  points  by  paragraphing  or  summary,  and 
the  way  transitions  are  made. 


MAKING  A CQUA INTANCE  WITH  AN  A  UTHOR     187 

How  does  the  author  make  his  thought  impressive? 
Attention  to  impressiveness  consists  in  notic- 
ing the  means  that  are  taken  for  expressing  emotion — 
the  figures,  allusions,  climaxes,  the  short  bursts  of  elo- 
quence, stories  characterized  by  humor  and  pathos,  and 
beautiful  descriptions. 

What  is  the  general  character  of  the  style  as  a 
whole? 

Attention  to  general  character  of  style  is  a 
feeling  for  a  pervading  tone  or  atmosphere,  and  the 
naming  of  it  by  the  name  of  some  human  quality,  such 
as — elegant,  pretentious,  showy,. gay. 

FINAL  KESTJLT  OF  BEADING  AN  AUTHOR'S  WORKS. — The 
reading  of  the  principal  works  of  an  author  should  re- 
sult in  the  discovery  of  the  author's  one  great  aim,  and 
the  associating  of  this  aim  with  the  needs  of  his  time 
as  discovered  in  preparatory  reading.  The  author's 
place  in  the  world  of  letters  depends  upon  the  charac- 
ter of  his  aim,  its  correspondence  with  the  need  of  the 
times,  and  his  success  in  achieving  his  aim. 

THE  READING  OF   CONTEMPORARY  AND  SUB- 
SEQUENT LITERATURE. 

CONTEMPORARY  LITERATURE. — The  reading  of  con- 
temporary literature  is  for  the  purpose  of  comparison, 
since  acquaintance  with  an  author  must  include  opin- 
ion as  to  his  standing  among  his  contemporaries.  This 
stage  includes  much  indiscriminate  reading  of  the  crit- 
ics, in  order  to  see  how  the  author's  contemporaries 
regarded  him. 

SUBSEQUENT  LITERATURE. — The  reading  of  subse- 
quent literature  is  for  the  purpose  of  tracing  the  effects 


188  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

left  upon  succeeding  generations.  This  is  the  climax 
of  acquaintance,  for  it  is  the  discovery  of  the  author's 
success.'  This  stage  includes  much  reading  of  latest 
criticism  in  order  to  see  how  opinions  concerning  the 
author  have  changed  and  continue  to  change.  The 
reader  is  thus  finally  prepared  to  join  in  the  never- 
ending  argument  of  which  any  great  man  is  a  subject. 


Illustration  of  the  Study  of  an  Author. — For 

the  purpose  of  illustrating  what  constitutes  an  acquaint- 
ance with  an  author,  the  following  lists  are  given. 
The  student  should  notice,  first,  the  points  or  subjects 
upon  which  he  should  have  some  information  ;  second, 
he  should  notice  the  character  of  the  information  given 
in  the  lists,  and  regard  it  as  the  basis  on  which  to 
build  further  knowledge ;  third,  he  should  understand 
that  Oarlyle  is  taken  as  an  author  typical  of  those 
whose  thorough  acquaintance  it  is  worth  while  to  make  ; 
fourth,  he  should  understand  that,  since  Ruskin  is  a 
professed  and  recognized  disciple  of  Oarlyle,  that  he 
is  taken  as  an  example  of  an  author  in  whom  may  be 
studied  the  effects  which  one  author  produces  on  a 
later  generation.  By  these  lists  the  student  can  see 
the  advantage  of  comparing  two  or  more  representa- 
tive authors  of  a  certain  literary  age.  First,  it  gives 
the  student  an  understanding  of  what  is  meant  by  per- 
sonality to  compare  two  authors  whose  aims  and  sur- 
roundings were  the  same,  but  whose  methods  were  dif- 
ferent ;  second,  by  comparing  two  representatives  of  the 
Victorian  Age,  the  student  will  get  a  fair  view  of  the 
main  features  of  the  age. 


MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A UTHOR      189 
THOMAS  CARLYLE— 1795-1881 

THE  VICTORIAN  AGE 

RACE  :  Scotch. 
NATION:  British. 

ANCESTRY  : — 

Born  of  the  border  race  in  the  debatable  land  be- 
tween Scotland  and  England,  where  his  ancestors  led 
a  life  of  warfare.  "Carlyle  was  as  undaunted  and  res- 
olute in  meeting  the  moral  and  spiritual  lie,  however 
high  in  the  world's  esteem,  as  were  his  fathers  in  con- 
quering their  foes/' 

SOCIAL  CLASS  : — 

Born  a  peasant,  he  became  the  greatest  man  of  let- 
ters of  his  time. 

LOCALITIES  : — 

Ecclefechan,  Scotland  (Birthplace  and  place  of 
burial)  ;  Edinburgh  University ;  Craigenputtoch,  Scot- 
land (The  place  of  the  six  years  of  seclusion) ;  London 
— Oheyne  Row,  Chelsea  (Residence  during  forty-seven 
years,  now  national  Oarlyle  museum). 

LITERARY  CONTEMPORARIES  : — 

Macaulay  and  Froude,  historians ;  Cardinal  New- 
man, Gladstone,  and  DeQuincey,  essayists  ;  John  Stuart 
Mill,  the  political  economist;  Tyndall,  Darwin,  Hux- 
ley, natural  scientists  ;  George  Eliot,  Charlotte  Bronte, 
Thackeray,  Dickens,  Scott,  novelists ;  Wordsworth, 
Coleridge,  Browning,  Tennyson,  Arnold,  poets.  Goethe 
in  Germany  and  Emerson  in  America  were  his  inti- 
mate friends. 


190  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

PRECEDING  HISTORY  : — 

The  first  French  Revolution ;  the  American  Revo- 
lution; the  reigns  of  "the  enlightened  despots'' — 
Joseph  II  of  Austria,  Catherine  II  of  Russia,  and  Fred- 
erick the  Great'of  Prussia ;  the  Great  Period  of  German 
Literature. 

CONTEMPORARY  HISTORY  : — 

A  period  of  revolution  in  social,  religious,  and  polit- 
ical life,  unequaled  in  history.  Every"  country  of  ^im- 
portance had  recently  had  its  insurrection, w  or  revolu- 
tion and  reconstitution :  there  were^the  wars  of  Napo- 
leon and  the  succeeding  changes  in  the  government  of 
France  until  the  fall  of  the  Second  Empire,  the  inde- 
pendence of  Greece,  insurrections  in  Belgium,  Spain, 
and  Portugal,  revolutions  in  Italy,  Austria,  and  Ger- 
many,  the  Crimean  War,  and  the  Civil  War  in  the 
United  States.  In  England,  the  new  science  was  rev- 
olutionizing thought ;  it  was  the  time  of  the  birth  of 
democracy ;  socialism  was  being  introduced ;  trades 
unions  were  developing.  The  agitations  of  the  day  in- 
cluded parliamentary  reforms,  the  corn-law  struggles, 
chartism,  labor  riots,  Irish  famines,  and  the  slavery 
question  in  the  West  Indies.  The  evils  of  the  indus- 
trial world  were  over-production  and  unemployment ; 
bhe  evils  of  the  social  world  were  cant,  insincerity, 
decay  of  true  religion,  and  a  utilitarian  philosophy. 
A  social  transition  was  in  progress,  and  a  .'revolution  in 
government  was  threatened.  Thejgreat*  need  of  the 
age  was  to  discover  what  the  great  issues  were ;  reme- 
dies would  naturally  follow. 


MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A  UTHOR      191 

His  AIM  : — 

His  aim  maybe  stated  in  one  word — Regeneration. 
To  this  end,  he  made  a  careful  estimate  of  his  time, 
disclosed  the  roots  of  misgovernment,  denounced  idle- 
ness and  selfish  luxury,  and  instilled  into  the  new 
democracy  principles  of  industry,  economy,  and  integ- 
rity. Government  was  the  subject  which  absorbed  his 
thought;  he  saw  misgovernments and  revolutions;  and, 
with  the  aim  of  saving  his  nation  from  becoming  such 
a  victim  as  France  had  been,  he  became  a  profound 
student  of  history  and  biography.  Social  conditions, 
too,  became  his  deep  concern ;  and  with  the  aim  of 
making  a  way  for  new  and  better  things,  he  confronted 
the  cherished  beliefs  and  measures  of  his  time,  un- 
masked hollow  pretense,  probed  social  injustice,  and 
thus  became  a  disturbing,  overturning  force. 

His  SUCCESS  : — 

In  spite  of  the  antagonism  which  he  at  first  aroused, 
he  lived  to  be  universally  revered  and  to  receive  pub- 
lic honors ;  his  books  became  the  basis  of  all  sincere 
thought  about  social  problems ;  he  reversed  the  nation's 
judgment  of  Oliver  Cromwell;  and  opened  German  lit- 
erature to  the  English.  He  fulfilled  his  aim  by  becom- 
ing a  great  moral  force.  His  effects  may  be  traced  in 
subsequent  sociology,  in  the  novels  of  Reade,  Kingsley, 
Thomas  Hardy,  and  in  the  work  of  John  Ruskin. 

His  DOCTRINES  : — 

Warfare  against  inherited  conditions  that  obstruct 

progress. 

Salvation  of  society  through  the  individual,  and 
salvation  of  the  individual  through  work. 


192  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

The  judgment  of  the  few  wise  and  strong  safer 
than  popular  opinions  and  movements. 

The  waste  of  dividing  men  into  hostile  camps, 
parted  by  watch-words,  banners,  and  tokens,  which  we 
designate  by  name  of  party,  secular  or  religious. 

All  social  disorder  and  order  caused  by  decay  and 
renewal  of  belief. 

State-aided  emigration,  co-operation,  and  national 
education. 

The  efficacy  of  silence. 
QUOTATION  : — 

"What  an  umpire  nature  is;  what  a  greatness, 
composure  of  depth  and  tolerance  there  is  in  her! 
You  take  wheat  to  cast  into  the  Earth's  bosom ;  your 
wheat  may  be  mixed  with  chaff,  chopped  straw,  barn- 
sweepings,  dust,  and  all  imaginable  rubbish;  no  mat- 
ter; you  cast  it  into  the  kind,  just  Earth;  she  grows 
the  wheat, — the  whole  rubbish  she  silently  absorbs, 
shrouds  it  in,  says  nothing  of  the  rubbish.  The  yellow 
wheat  is  growing  there ;  the  good  Earth  is  silent  about 
all  the  rest, — has  silently  turned  all  the  rest  to  some 
benefit,  too,  and  makes  no  complaint  about  it!" 

CRITICAL  ESTIMATES  : — 

From  an  address  presented  to  him  on  his  eightieth 
birthday,  by  nearly  all  the  persons  of  eminence  in 
England,  including  Tennyson,  George  Eliot,  Kobert 
Browning,  and  Huxley:  "A  whole  generation  has 
elapsed  since  you  described  for  us  the  hero  as  a 
man  of  letters.  We  congratulate  you  and  ourselves  on 
the  spacious  fullness  of  years  which  has  enabled  you  to 
sustain  this  rare  dignity* amongst  mankind  in  all  its 
possible  splendor  and  completeness." 


MAKING  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  AUTHOR      193 

11  You  shall  wear  the  crown  at  the  Pan-Saxon  games 
with  no  competitor  in  sight,  well  earned  by  genius  and 
exhaustive  labor,  with  nations  for  your  pupils  and 
praisers." — Emerson. 

"The  greatest  figure  in  modern  literature." — Clem- 
ent Shorter. 

"The  most  accurate  student  of  the  constitutional 
development  of  the  British,  French,  and  German  na- 
tions at  their  most  critical  periods." — David  Nicol. 

CLASSIFICATION  : — 

Historian,  biographer,  essayist,  translator. 

TITLES  : — 

The  Censor  of  His  Age. 
The  Sage  of  Chelsea. 
The  Modern  Ezekiel. 


LIST  OF  WORKS  : — 


HISTORY 


AND 


BIOGRAPHY 


The  French  Revolution.     1837. 
Friedrich  II.  of  Prussia.     1858-1865 
Life  and  Letters  of  Oliver  Cromwell, 

1845 

Life  of  Schiller.     1825. 
Life  of  John  Sterling.     1851. 
Heroes  and  Hero- "Worship.     1841 
Reminiscences.    Edited    by   Froude 

1881 
Early  Kings  of  Norway. 


194 


THE  READER'S  BASIS 


SOCIOLOGY 


/*Sartor  Resartus.     1833 

I  tPast  and  Present.     1843 

1  Latter  Day  Pamphlets.     1850 

(Chartism.     1840 
Signs  of  the  Times.     1829 
tlnaugural  Address.     1866 


Well  Known  Essays  : — 

tBurns.     1828 

tOn  Biography.     1832 

On  History.     1830 

Mirabeau.     1837 

Goethe.    1828 

Voltaire.     1829 

Scott.    1838 

Richter.     1827 


{Goethe's  Wilhelm  Meister 
Other  German  Writings 


MISCELLANEOUS 

ESSAYS 


LETTERS 


f    Correspondence  with 

(      Emerson,  Goethe,  and  Mrs.  Oarlyle 


*Masterpieces. 
tPopular  books. 


MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A  UTHOR      195 
JOHN  RU  SKIN— 1819-1900 

THE   VICTORIAN   AGE 

RACE  :    Scotch-Celt. 
NATION:     British. 

ANCESTRY  : — 

His  father,  a  lover  of  art,  gave  him  an  art  bias ; 
his  mother,  a  strict  Puritan,  gave  him  a  religious  bias. 

SOCIAL  CLASS: — 

Born  in  wealthy  merchant  class,  he  became  pro- 
fessor of  fine  arts  at  Oxford,  a  reformer,  a  philanthro- 
pist, and  a  writer  of  books. 

LOCALITIES: — 

London  (Birthplace — Hunter  street,  Brunswick 
Square);  Oxford  University;  "Brantwood"  on  Lake 
Coniston  in  northern  England  (Place  of  death  and 
burial). 

CONTEMPORARIES  : — 

His  contemporaries  were  the  same  as  those  of 
Carlyle,  but"Ruskin  was  particularly  associated  with 
two  groups  of  people:  one,  the  promoters,  of  a  move- 
ment towards  new  and  broader  views,  which  was  called 
the  romantic  revival,  of  whom  Scott,  Carlyle,  Cole- 
ridge, Wordsworth,  Freeman.  Francis  Newman,  Mat- 
thew Arnold,  and  Tennyson  were  leading  spirits ;  the 
other,  a  group  of  artists  known  as  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
Brotherhood,  who  protested  against  the  lifeless  con- 
ventions of  the  art  schools,  a  group  of  whom  Rossetti, 
Madox  Brown,  Holman  Hunt,  and  John  Millais  were 


196  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

the    founders,    Kuskin     the   champion,    and    William 
Morris  the  earnest  supporter. 
CONTEMPORARY  HISTORY  : — 

His  time  was  the  same  as  that  of  Oarlyle  ;  the  same 
problems  challenged  both .  Kuskin's  attention  was  first 
attracted  to  the  conditions  of  his  time  by  the  prevailing 
bad  taste  and  unnatural  conventions.  He  associated  bad 
morals  with  bad  taste.  Being  a  profound  student  of 
art,  he  believed  that  the  principles  which  he  had  found 
in  art  and  in  nature  were  the  true  principles  of  right 
living,  and  that  national  life  could  be  purified  and 
elevated  by  an  art  revival. 
His  AIM: — 

His  aim,  like  that  of  Oarlyle,  was  the  regeneration 
of  his  time,  but  his  methods  were  different.  He  an- 
nounced his  aim  as  this:  "To  make  the  English  nation 
understand  that  the  beauty  which  is  to  be  a  joy  forever 
must  be  a  joy  for  all",  and  to  get  his  nation  interested 
in  the  following  question  :  "What  is  the  noblest  tone 
and  reach  of  life  for  men ;  and  how  can  the  possibility 
be  extended  to  the  greatest  numbers?"  To  this  end 
he  taught  the  people,  through  books  and  public  lec- 
tures, to  look  at  nature,  and  to  have  a  higher  sense  of 
art,  and  so  led  up  to  a  higher  understanding  of  moral- 
ity, industry,  and  religion.  He  aimed  to  make  this 
practical  by  attempts  to  secure  greater  freedom  for  the 
industrial  class,  opportunities  for  them  to  come  under 
the  influence  of  beauty,  and  opportunities  to  apply 
their  sense  of  beauty  in  the  mechanical  arts. 
His  SUCCESS  : — 

He  effected   a  moral   and   aesthetic   revolution  in 
English    thought.     Ridiculed    and    thwarted    in    his 


MAKING  A CQUAINTANCE  WITH  AN  A UTHOR      197 

economic  measures,  his  efforts  were  the  forerunners  of 
what  has  today  become  common.  His  success  as  a 
critic  of  painting,  or  as  a  political  economist  may  be 
questioned,  but  there  is  no  question  of  his  success  as  a 
great  ethical  teacher,  and  as  a  master  of  English  prose. 

His  DOCTRINES  : — 

Art  consists  in  fidelity  to  nature. 

4 'Government  and  co-operation  are  in  all  things  the 
Laws  of  Life ;  anarchy  and  competition,  the  Laws  of 
Death." 

The  delusion  of  the  commonly  accepted  theories  in 
economics. 
QUOTATION  : — 

"What  is  chiefly  needed  today  is  to  show  the  quantity 
of  pleasure  that  may  be  obtained  by  a  consistent,  well- 
administered  competence.  We  need  examples  of  peo- 
ple who,  leaving  Heaven  to  decide  whether  they  are 
to  rise  in  the  world,  decide  for  themselves  that  they 
will  be  happy  in  it,  and  have  resolved  to  seek — not 
greater  wealth,  but  simpler  pleasures ;  not  higher  for- 
tune, but  deeper  felicity ;  making  the  first  of  posses- 
sions, self-possession;  and  honoring  themselves  in  the 
harmless  pride  and  calm  pursuits  of  peace." 

CRITICAL  ESTIMATE  : — 

"No  man  in  England  has  in  him  the  divine  rage 
against  iniquity,  falsity,  and  baseness  that  Ruskin  has, 
and  that  every  man  ought  to  have." — Carlyle. 

Read  Frederic  Harrison  on  Ruskin  in  Literary 
Estimates. 

CLASSIFICATION  : — 

Essayist,  prose-poet,  critic,  prophet. 


198 

LIST  OF  WORKS 


ART  CRITICISM 


1857 


NATURAL  SCIENCE 


THE  READER'S  BASIS 

/Art  in  General : 

Oxford  Lectures  on  Art.     1870 

The  Political  Economy  of  Art. 

Pleasures  of  England.     1885 

Art  of  England.     1874 

Val  d'Arno.     1877 
/tMornings  in  Florence.     1877 
Architecture : 

Poetry  of  Architecture.  1837-1839 
*Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture.  1849 
*Stones  of  Venice.  1851-1853 

St.  Mark's  Rest.     A  history  of  Ven- 
ice.    1877 

Lectures  on  Architecture.     1853 
Painting : 
*Modern  Painters.     1843-1860 

Pre-Kaphaelitism.     1851 

Elements  of  Drawing.     1857 

Laws  of  Fesole.     1877 
Sculpture : 

Aratra  Pentelici.     1870 
Engraving : 

Ariadne  Morentina.     1872 
Crafts : 

Two  Paths  on  Art.     1859 

Ethics  of  the  Dust — The  laws  of  crys- 
talization.    1865. 

Love's  Meinie.    A  study  of  birds.  1873 

Proserpina.    A  study  of  flowers.   1879 

Deucalion.    A  study  of  geology.  1876 

The  Eagle's    Nest.     The  relation  of 
natural  science  to  art.     1872 


SOCIOLOGY 


MAKING  A  CQUA INTANCE  WITH  AN  A  UTHOR      199 

/tThe  King  of  the  Golden  River.     A 
j     myth    teaching  self-sacrifice.     1841 
\   Construction  of  Sheepf olds.  The  duty 
)      of  pastors.     1851 
ETHICS  tSesame  and  Lilies.     On  the  influence 

of  books  and  of  women.     1865 
tThe  Queen  of  the  Air.     The  meaning 
of  the  worship  of   Athena,  and  its 
application  to  British  life.     1869 

*Unto  This  Last.     Christ's  parable  on 
wages.     1860 

Munera  Pulveris.    Benefits  of  labor. 

1863 

tOrown  of   Wild   Olive.     War,  work, 
traffic.     1866 

Time  and  Tide.     A  study  of  profits, 
fair  and  unfair.    1867 

Fors  Olavigera.     Letters  to  working- 
men  on  the  dignity  of  labor.  1871-78 

Arrows  of  the  Chace.     Collected  let- 
ters.    1880 

Hortus  Inclusus.     Letters  and  selec- 
tions.    1887 

MISCELLANEA      fPraeterita.    An  autobiography.    1887 
Poems.     Collected  in  1859 
Our  Fathers  Have  Told  Us.     History 
of  Christendom,  for  boys  and  girls. 
1885 

*Masterpieces. 
tPopular  books. 


200  THE  READER'S  BASIS 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  CRITICISM  ON  OARLYLB  : — 

Introduction  to  Carlyle's  Essay  on  Burns,  edited  by 
Willard  0.  Gore,  published  by  the  Macmillaii 
Company. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  CRITICISM  ON  RUSKIN  : — 

Introduction  to  Ruskin:  Essays  and  Letters,  edited  by 
Lois  G.  Hufford,  published  by  Ginn  &  Company. 


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